Lost Birds with Broken Wings
by PirateTurtle4
Summary: re-done and re-formatted.a story of our two favorite captains as they find themselves wrapped in adventure,murder,angry french men and captains holding a grudge,and of course,romance
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. Just the plot really._

_Author's note: well, this is my first fic here. And slash. Constructive criticism is always welcome. Please? Thanks. And enjoy…_

If you happened to be strolling through the island of Tortuga on dark, windy night, you would most likely come across a dingy tavern. And if you happened to enter said tavern, you would most definitely come across a huddled form at the end of the bar that was a shadow of his former glory.

Jack Sparrow spent every day and night in that tavern. The bartender/ landlord didn't mind, so long as Jack paid regularly and kept to himself. Jack drank bottle after bottle of rum until he passed out, which was quite a lot of rum.

This in itself wasn't unusual, as Jack was known for his love of rum, and frequently asking why it was gone. However, what was unusual was why Captain Sparrow was drinking. He wasn't drinking simply to drink, as was his wont. He was drinking to forget and numb the pain.

Not terribly long ago, after Barbossa had sailed off with his ship…again…in search of the Fountain of Youth, he had found him. He rallied a mutiny against Barbossa and left him on a god-forsaken spit of land with naught but a bottle of rum. A bottle of rum in which he might have slipped a poison into. As far as he knew, the man was, once and for all, dead. He'd gone back to Tortuga to pick up Gibbs, and set off after the Fountain.

It seemed though, Calypso hadn't finished with him. Apparently, she took it ill that he'd been in on the freeing her business. She'd whipped up a fierce tempest and dashed his beloved Black Pearl against the rocks. Only Jack made it out alive, clinging to one of the larger boards that had once been his ship. That was his punishment; to live knowing his arrogance had cost his crew their life. How had it been his fault? Jack had seen the storm coming and insisted upon sailing through it anyway. Was his ship not the infamous Black Pearl? Was he not Captain Jack Sparrow? He'd led them to their watery graves. He was no longer Captain Jack Sparrow.

Now he was just a lonely man with naught but rum.

He slumped on the bar stool, raising the bottle to his lips. Empty. Again. 'Why do I hafta live with this?' he wondered. He wasn't one given to despair. It wasn't his nature to do so. But with his ship irretrievably gone, and his crew dead, he didn't much see the point. To anything at all really. He couldn't plunder, or sail wherever the wind took him.

A familiar voice roused him from his self-deprecating stupor. " Add a case o'rum to tha' willya?" Jack looked up, glazed, unfocused eyes taking in the figure.

"B-Bootstrap?" he had to clear his throat. His voice was cracked and hoarse from lack of use. Bootstrap looked around. "Jack! Good to…er…see yeh." He took in Jack's disheveled appearance. "What're you doin' here?" Jack asked. "Cap'n wants more rum," Bootstrap's tone indicated how much he disliked that.

It took Jack's rum soaked mind a minute to grasp that. Cap'n? Oh! William! Drinking rum? "Why's Will need rum?" "Will's fallen on hard times Jack," Bootstrap answered. Who hadn't?

"Harder than becoming Captain of the Flying Dutchman and not allowed to see his bonnie lass for ten years?" Bill nodded solemnly. It was then Jack made one of the more important decisions in his life. He couldn't sit on the bar stool forever. Well, he could. But he didn't want to. Besides his ass being sore, dear William was in port. And seemingly in need of company. Perhaps Lizzie had decided she didn't want to wait for him, and married some swotty government official, and Will wasn't taking the rejection well. The least he could do was pay the lad a visit. He wouldn't mind being reacquainted with Will.

"I'm coming with you Bill."


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: as much as I wish it were true, I don't own the characters. They are the property of Disney or something. I own only the plot._

"Elizabeth's dead. I miss her, but not in a true love way. I'm empty of everything but rum," Will took the bottle back. He looked to Jack, who was sitting still.

"Wha' is it?" "If I had anything left to me, I'd bet it all on that storm what killed Lizzie bein' the same one what killed me crew," Jack answered. "The Pearl's no more. Calypso hadn't finished with me and made that storm." "So it was you're fault!" Will growled. "What was?" "Everything! Every time my life took a turn for the worse, it was your doing!" he yelled.

Jack let him rant, the lad needed to lash out. Rum did that. Besides, _most_ of what Will said was true. Both of them could see that, despite their advanced state of drunkenness. Will slumped over, his face flushed and sweaty, hair falling in soft curls. Silence filled the quarters until Jack picked up on sniffling. He looked over. Will's shoulders shook as he cried, head in his hands.

Jack was thrown off. People crying was not something he was accustomed to. "Come on mate. No use cryin',"he said, awkwardly putting an arm around Will's shoulders. Will mumbled something incomprehensible. "What was that?" "Its not your fault. You didn't ask for the storm, or make me lose Elizabeth. If it weren't for you, I'd never have freed my father." Will sniffed and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "Don't take all the blame William, some of its mine. And, I can't even believe I'm thinking it, but you need to lay off the rum," Jack looked at the bottles scattered on the floor. "I think I can solve that." He took the bottle from Will, shaking it in an effort to get the last drops.

Will grinned at Jack. But the little bit of kindness made him feel worse. He didn't feel deserving of it, even if it was just from Jack. To his embarrassment, tears flooded his eyes once more. He let out a frustrated cry, and without thinking, buried his face in Jack's shoulder.

Jack went still, letting Will cry. Will never cried, he was a pirate, they were a tough lot, but he was drunk and depressed. And despite the lad crying brokenly into his shoulder, he felt a glimmer of interest. Will was alone? No longer pining for Lizzie? He had been curious about Will. The dark brown curls, tan smooth skin, melting brown eyes. Jack considered himself a lover of the equal opportunist variety. Pleasure could be found with both genders, though he preferred the company of strumpets. But he wasn't adverse to romp in the captain's quarters with a handsome lad if there were no strumpets to be found.

They were two of a kind in that moment. It was a bond. But as much as he wanted to satisfy his curiosity about Will, he didn't have the heart. Not with the lad drunk and crying. It felt wrong, even to him. Though maybe he could persuade Will to let him stay on. He'd been thinking and drinking a bottle of rum for a while, and noticed Will's sniffles had turned to light snores, and his head was resting on Jack's thigh. Jack grinned, gold teeth catching the weak light, then yawned. He was tired himself. Doing so much, after being so drunk for so long put a strain on him. "Jus' a lit'l lie down," he murmured to himself, and leaned to the side against the wall, eyes drooping shut. He was asleep within seconds, warm and content.

_Does that perhaps rate a review? Maybe? Oh, and apologies about the tiny bit of fluff at the end. I couldn't resis_t


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't know why I put this. Clearly I don't own the characters. I only own the plot.

Will woke slowly, dragging himself from the depths of sleep. He didn't want to face another day alone. It was always the same. Although, now he thought about it, in his sleep fuzzy mind, this morning was different.

He was warm, and he could tell already he wasn't alone in his bed. Will shook his head, struggling to remember. In doing so, the corner of Jack's compass dug into his neck. The night previous crashed in on Will and his eyes widened. He slowly looked up.

Oh god his face was nuzzled against Jac-Captain Jack Sparrow's thigh! Jack was sound asleep, as only the truly drunk can be. The sun shone through a small crack in the wall, hitting Jack's face, making delicate shadows on his high, defined cheeks from his eyelashes, and turning his already bronze skin to gold.

Or so it looked like to Will, who had no clue why he was staring. But it was quiet, and he was as at peace as he could get. Poor lad, his head was pounding, his stomach was roiling, and his mouth tasted bitter. He tried to concentrate on getting over the pain, accepting it, and hopefully it would go away. And it seemed to work. Until Jack startled in his sleep and the heel of his boot smack sharply against the bed. The sound was like a blade through Will's head.

Jack's eyes fluttered and slowly opened. A sound like a wounded dog filled the…wherever he was. He looked about. Ah yes, William's quarters. He looked down, and saw a rather pale looking blacksmith turned pirate, who was clutching his stomach and whimpering.

"Whelp? Are you a' right?" he asked. Will shook his head and bolted to the washroom by the organ. Jack could hear him getting sick, and winced in sympathy. Rum was not for Will. He followed, and saw Will slumped against a wall, a bucket on the floor next to him. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he lifted Will up. Quick dunk would fix him, he thought, spying the large barrel of water under a dusty looking mirror on the wall. A second later Will accepted a towel from Jack, flicking his soaked curls from his face, shivering and chattering. "Better?" Jack asked him. "M-m-much. Th-thanks," Will answered.

Will, for the first time in he didn't know how long, went topside. Jack followed, for all the world like a puppy, though he wouldn't appreciate the comparison. "Will!" Bootstrap clapped Will on the back. "Good to see yeh son." "I know, I'm sorry," Will said, looking down. "Son, no need to apologize. Just glad you're back."

As Will took the helm, Bootstrap pulled Jack aside. "How did you do it Jack?" he asked. "I dunno. I didn't do anything, far as I can see. 'Cept talk to him. An' he decided to come up here," Jack shrugged. He left Bootstrap to his duties and sauntered up towards the helm, to pester Will.

"So where to whelp?" he asked, tossing a leg over the rail and leaning back. "A hospitable island to drop you, then to a place to cross over. Jack fell off the rail. "What?!" "Jack, you may have some unusual manner of luck, but no man was meant to see the other side more than once and live," Will said solemnly. "But I don't want to go back," Jack said firmly, damn near stamping his foot. "That's too bad Jack. I don't want to see you dead," Will answered, not meeting Jack's gaze.

"But what of your men? They make it." "They're neither living nor dead. They're part of the crew," Will sighed, really wishing he weren't having this argument. He wanted Jack to stay, he could use company, but he didn't want to see Jack die either. Jack made the decision for him. He grabbed Will by the arms, "So make me part of your crew William. I don't want to go back to that, crawling into a bottle of rum alone each day and night til I die!" Will looked into Jack's eyes, and what he saw made his resolve falter. Usually full of mischief or something cool and calculating, Jack's deep brown eyes were full of vulnerability and…fear. Will couldn't turn him down.

"You can stay."

"Really? I can stay now?" Jack asked. "Why the sudden change of heart…or rather…err," he faltered, trying not to glance at the scar where Will's heart had been. Will knew he couldn't tell Jack the truth. So he lied. Like any decent pirate.y quarters. I'll not force one of the crew to give up their bed. Understood?" "Aye captain," Jack saluted mockingly and sashayed off, to presumably find more rum, happy to have gott"I didn't want to listen to you complain," he grinned weakly. "But you're at the lowest level, as cabin boy, or rather, cabin man, and you have to sleep on the floor in men his way. He was staying aboard William's vessel, not dropped on some island what could be inhabited by cannibals. Yes this company was infinitely more better.


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: as I'm sure you've all figured out by now, I don't own the characters. Just the plot. Unfortunately._

After his usual three bottles of rum, Jack made his way to Will's quarters. If he was to sleep there, he, unfortunately, had to clean it up.

The floor was scattered with rum bottles sticky with old rum, and food and dishes, and dirty clothes. Will had certainly been in a right state. He was one of the cleanest pirates Jack had ever met. Even as a blacksmith, everything had been meticulously organized, and Will had usually made sure he looked immaculate. To see this level of filth showed once more how depressed he had been. Although he seemed, if not happy, at least not depressed.

Jack tossed his coat on the desk, along with his effects, and even his hat. He pulled his boots off and rolled up his sleeves, fetching a bucket of water and a cloth. Jack gathered up the old rum bottles, tossing them in a crate to take care of later, and piled up Will's old clothes under his bed. Grimacing, he plucked up the bits of food and tossed them among the bottles.

"It's going to be worth it," he told himself, starting to scrub the floor. That was what kept him going. He had no doubts about whether or not he should bother with Will. It was more a matter of how to get said whelp. He didn't question if it was right or not. He was a pirate lord, what did he care of right and wrong? And, with his _slightly_ over inflated ego, he didn't ask whether Will would want him, for Will had been alone, and who better to remedy that, for a brief time, than Jack Sparrow? Better him than some whore who would end up stabbing Will, tying him up, and taking his money.

While all this was whirling around Jack's mind, Will was leaving the helm in the hands of his father to search for Jack. He needed to tell him that in a few days they would be crossing over. He wasn't down below anywhere, or near the mess hall, so that left his quarters. He pushed open the door and his jaw dropped. Jack was on his knees, his back to Will. He'd pulled off his coat, boots, hat, and effects, tossing them all on his bed. He was, unbelievable as is seemed, scrubbing the Sparrow was doing chores.

Will leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. Jack's white linen shirt, stained and wrinkled, had slid up his back slightly, and his brown breeches had slipped down, revealing a thin strip of bronze skin. Will watched as the pirate ran the clothe around, unsure of why he was, for lack of a better term, entranced. The muscles in Jack's arms, back and legs flexed, rippling as he worked, and the sight left Will speechless.

"See something yeh like whelp?" Jack glanced over his shoulder, grinning at Will, his gold teeth flashing. Will jumped, then quickly thought up a response. "I do in fact Jack," he said. Jack looked at him, one eyebrow arched. "You doing something useful for once." "Well I couldn't sleep down here among all the old bottles, food and clothes now could I William?" "I was lonely Jack," Will said indignantly. "So was I, but I didn't let my standards fall so far." "You had standards?" The bickering continued until Will got fed up and simply told Jack they would cross over soon, and returned to the helm, irritated.

Will stood at the helm, considering returning Jack to the island of the pelegostas. Surely they would love the return of their god. They might even have a feast in his honor. He smirked at the idea. But he wouldn't. He'd allowed Jack to stay. And as annoying as Jack would surely be, he enjoyed his company somewhat. He truly didn't want to see him dead. The world did seem a bleak place without him. 'See something yeh like whelp?' he'd said. Will shuddered. Jack had caught him staring. It was embarrassing to say the least.

"I've been at sea far too long," he muttered. "Talkin' to yerself William?" his father strolled over. "A bit I suppose." "Want to talk about it?" Bootstrap offered. "Not just yet. I want to think first. How much longer do you think we'll be?" "I'd say about two days, if this wind keeps up. Does Jack know we're crossing over?" "He does, and he was annoying about it, as usual," Will sighed. "That'll be Sparrow," Bootstrap agreed.

Jack, unlike Will, was not stupid. He was very interested in that the whelp had seemed interested. He lifted the crate and left it out by the mess hall. Someone would take care of it, he didn't want to. He had more important things to think of. Such as how to get Will to himself for an evening. Maybe two. Then, most likely, he'd commandeer one of the long boats, and row to some distant port, and perhaps commandeer himself a new ship and crew.

Though none would be the Pearl. Though that was probably his mistake, thinking he could just enjoy Will's company for and evening or two and leave. He never brought emotions into his equation. He ignored the fact that he'd always been annoyed by Lizzie capturing Will's heart, shaking it off as he just found her conniving, not to mention she left him to the Kraken. And he shouldn't have ignored his compass, and how every time he had opened it in the god forsaken rum and it had flickered towards the sea. Being a pirate he naturally had thought it meant he missed sailing and the sea, not the new physical embodiment of the sea.

The new captain of the Flying Dutchman.

PirateTurtle4: so? What did you think? Did I do good setting it up there?


	5. Chapter 5

_Disclaimer: as per usual, I don't own the characters. A few of them I wish I owned, but I don't._

"What the bloody hell is that infernal noise?"

Jack paced around Will's quarters, trying to locate the sound that was driving him mad. It was growing louder and faster and he couldn't ignore it. He nearly turned the cabin, which he had just cleaned, upside down. And he couldn't find it. He did however, find an old deck of cards, which gave him a brilliantly devious despite the brilliantness of his idea, it couldn't distract him from the beating sound. He slumped to the floor, feeling slightly defeated and annoyed. It was like a bass drum, or a…heart beat.

"Shoulda known," he said, looking under Will's bed. There was the chest, and he could hear the heart fluttering like a caged bird. "Somethin' must be excitin' the lad." Happy to have solved that mystery, Jack once more leaned against the bunk. Idly, out of habit, he flipped open his compass. He fully expected the needle to be spinning wildly, or pointing at rum, not pointing straight out the door. Jack had time to say, "Now that's interesting," before he was wracked with pain.

The room ran in streamers, and lights burst in front of his eyes. It felt like an iron hook had been thrust deep into him, where it had no right to be, and was trying to pull something out. Something that didn't want to come out, and was fighting tooth and nail against it. Now Jack was tough, as any one who knew him could tell you. He wasn't one to panic much. But as he clutched the bed, trying to stay conscious, he cried out in agony. Until finally, his eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out into blissful oblivion, away from the pain.

There were so many souls to collect and transfer to the other side. It seemed like Will was at it for hours. Finally he was done, and slumped over the helm, his back, arms, and legs aching. He wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead, and steered the ship back to the land of the living. The entire crew was just as exhausted. Will would have liked to join them for some food, but he had to check on Jack. Swaying slightly in his tired state, he went down to his quarters.

"Did you make it?" he asked, pushing the door open. No response came from the darkness. He stepped in, looking around for the pirate. "Jack?" he flung the door open wide, and in the weak light, he saw Jack slumped unconscious on the floor.

"Damn you Jack! I told you, you couldn't make it!" Will fell to his knees, feeling at Jack's neck for a pulse. Nothing, nothing, then a faint flutter. He sighed, relieved. Jack was incredibly lucky. He shook Jack's shoulder, "Get up you." Jack's eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright, gasping. "What the hell happened?" he asked, shaking his head, sending his dark dreads whipping across his face. "I was going to ask you that," Will answered. "I don't know. I remember it hurt like nothing I've ever felt. And then I passed out," Jack shrugged. "That was most likely your soul trying to escape, following the Dutchman. You're damn lucky Jack Sparrow," Will got to his feet and offered Jack his hand to help him up. "That's it though William. I'm Captain Jack-" "I know, Captain Jack Sparrow. You know what I could use?" "Rum?" Jack suggested. 'A bit of rough an' tumble?' he added in his head. "I was going to say food," Will retorted.

Will lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, arms crossed behind his head. He was trying to relax. It had been a trying day, to say the least. And Jack was making it very difficult to relax.

He was none too pleased with the sleeping arrangements, and was not shy about voicing his displeasure. "Oh shut it," Will threw a pillow at him, hitting him in the face. Jack glared, lower lip jutting slightly, almost pouting. "Why can't I sleep on the bed William?" he demanded. "Because it's mine." "But I don't want to sleep on the floor!" "Too bad. The dropping you on an island inhabited by cannibals is still an option. You wanted to stay here. I could make you sleep in the brig," Will rolled over and smirked at Jack, who got up in his face, almost nose to nose.

"Try it whelp." "It's Captain Turner to you, Sparrow." "You're always going to be whelp. Even if you become admiral of your own fleet, I'll still call you whelp." "I suppose I'll just have to take it as a term of endearment right?" Will sighed. "There are worse things I could call you," Jack said philosophically. "Such as?" Will asked, curious. "You don't really want to know whelp." "But I do," Will protested. "No. I'll not tell. Then you'll get angry and drop me on an island to be eaten. And I'm rather attached to living." And nothing Will said could change his mind.

A few days went by before Jack was able to put his plan into action. Actually, it was a few days before he saw Will again. It wasn't his fault, not really. He just didn't take orders. And when he'd refused to swab the deck as was ordered of him, he'd been sent to the all three days. Some other member of the crew had brought him his meals, and Will made sure he didn't get much rum. He could be very cruel.

Will himself was enjoying lording it over Jack. However, he did miss talking to him in his quarters. But he didn't visit him in the brig. Until three days had passed and he went down to let him out.

"This seems oddly familiar," he chuckled. Jack was lying on his back on the floor, much the same as when Will had sprung him from jail in Port Royal. Jack glared at him, then lay back down. Will unlocked the door and stepped in. "You can come out now," he said awkwardly. Jack pushed himself into a sitting position, hat tilted back. "That so?" he asked sarcastically. "Well, yes. So, well, I'll be going now." Will turned and left rather quickly. Jack looked after him, slightly amused at his antics. At least he'd left the door open.

Climbing to his feet, Jack strolled out, in search once more of rum. He hadn't had nearly enough during his stay in the brig. Finding a bottle, he leaned against the wall outside the mess hall. He brought the deck of cards from his pocket, going over once more his plan. Like all good plans, he needed to wait for the opportune moment. And he was certain it would present itself in good time. After that, it was merely a matter of getting away with a long boat unnoticed and getting himself a ship and a crew. Simple and easy to remember. Smirking, he raised the bottle to his lips. There were no complications, no strings attached, what so ever.

_PirateTurtle4: I'm hoping that's long enough. I'm trying to make the chapters longer, but my computer time is rather limited, and I'm not the fastest typer oO. maybe you could review anyway? Pretty please?_


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: nothing is mine but the plot. Oh, and this is where the slash __really gets started. Savvy?_

Will was sensationally bored.

The day had dragged by. They hadn't even needed to cross over. So they'd simply sailed in the opposite direction from Tortuga, for no particular reason, and with no particular destination in mind. He flopped back on his bed, in his for once empty room. Jack was somewhere on the ship, most likely drunk, as he liked to spend his days, and nights, and…well pretty much all the time.

Which was fine with Will. Since he had nearly died, Jack had been eyeing Will in a curious manner. Calculating. Almost predatory one could say. Will had been catching him smirking, the same smirk from when Will had found him cleaning. And it made shivers run up his spine. It was never good when Jack wore that smirk.

Jack was not, as Will thought, getting drunk. He was planning on it, but not at that moment. And not alone either. Gathering as many bottles of rum as he could hold, and tucking the deck of cards into his pocket he slipped up the steps to William's quarters. Will was laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he liked to do, looking bored out of his poor little mind. Well Jack had a solution.

Almost as though his thoughts had conjured him, Jack's face filled Will's vision. And as it had been the last week, the same smirk was plastered across his face.

"Bored William?" he asked. "Yes. Very actually. What can you do about it?" Will sat up, looking at Jack in the flickering light of the lamps. _'I can do quite a lot about it,'_ Jack thought mischievously. He unloaded the bottles of rum, Will eyeing him a trace nervously. He pulled the cards from his pocket, "Ever play at cards whelp?" "I've played poker yes," Will answered. "Perfect. What say you to a game?" "Do I have much of a choice?" Will pulled the bench from the organ over to use as a table, the legs making high scraping sounds across the floor.

Jack hooked an ankle around the leg of the chair at the desk, and pulled it around so he could sit. Will perched himself on a barrel from the hall. "Shall we make this interesting?" Jack suggested, shuffling and dealing the cards. "How?" Will asked, determined not to let Jack and his smirk bother him. Jack thought, though in reality he knew what he was doing. "How about, whoever loses a hand has to take a swig of rum, and, remove one article of clothing," he picked up a bottle of rum and placed it on the table. Will's eyes widened and he surreptitiously looked Jack up and down. "Let's play," he agreed.

At that minute, everything was falling into place in Jack's mind. Will did not have good poker face. It was clear he was losing the first hand already. His brows drew together slightly, and he was frowning. Will looked from his cards, to Jack and back again. Jack was still smirking, his expression hadn't changed. He just stared at Will across the table, brown eyes smoldering.

Smoldering? Will had never thought of that word before. "Damn!" he slammed the cards onto the table. He took a swig of rum, and pulled his shirt off, hand unconsciously rubbing at the scar where his heart had been carved out. Jack cocked an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't say anything. He just shuffled the cards once more and dealt them out.

"Ha!" the second hand had barely begun and Will had won. "Think you won whelp?" Jack asked mysteriously. He lay down his cards, took a drink of rum, and tossed his hat to the side. "That's cheatin'!" Will exclaimed before he could stop himself. "Bit eager to see me without a shirt, eh Will?" Jack snickered. Will flushed. His cheeks were already pink from the rum, so it wasn't too obvious. His hair was falling in tendrils around his face, and his eyes were bright, and there was the slightest hitch in his breath. And Jack, who would never admit it even on pain of death, thought he looked delightfully, _sinfully,_ attractive.

Both captains were drunk. Outstandingly so. They only had on their breeches. Jack had even removed the bandana around his head, freeing his hair to fall in dark curls and dreads around his face, and Will was wondering if it was as soft as it looked. Their third bottle of rum was nearly finished when Jack made his fateful observation. "Seems yeh won William," he slurred. "I did? Br-brilliant. Wha' did I win?" Will was grinning, though he wasn't sure why. Jack resolved to teach Will to drink another time. There were more _pressing_ matters at hand.

He stood up, swaying slightly. As he'd already lost his belts, his breeches were slipping down his hips. He pushed them down and threw them among the others. He sat back down to find Will staring at him, eyes as big as dinner plates, and they could both hear his heart pounding in the chest under his bed.

Will knew it was rude to stare but he seriously couldn't help it. He sat on the barrel, cards limp in his hands, staring at what lay against Jack's stomach. He licked his lips nervously, instantly sobering up. He drew his gaze away to meet Jack's. "Do you remember the first lesson I taught you William?" Jack asked. Will fought to remember, "What a man can do, and what a man can't do." "Right," Jack nodded. "For instance, we can sit here, playing cards like there's nothing going on. Or I can do this," he reached forward and put a hand on the back of Will's head, tangling his fingers in his brown locks. He pulled Will toward him and pressed their lips together in an almost bruising kiss.

For a moment, Will was frozen, all the blood gone from his head to gather elsewhere, as it were. And then the moment was gone, and Will was responding eagerly, leaning across the table and twining his arms about Jack's neck. With his free hand, Jack shoved the bench to the side, not caring for the scattered cards or even the spilled rum. All that mattered was him and Will and getting the lad's breeches off. Which he did, eagerly.

Once he'd set Will on the bunk, he stepped back slightly, standing between his knees, staring at the picture he made. Will's eyes were half closed as he looked over Jack's shoulder, and his breath was coming in short gasps. Jack licked two of his fingers, coating them thickly in saliva. He didn't want to hurt the lad over much. Though he needn't have worried. Drunk as he was, Will was damn near oblivious to Jack's fingers in his entrance, until he scissored them. Will's back arched, his head falling back. A low moan escaped his lips. At least Jack had removed his rings. He slowly pushed his two fingers in, brushing the bundle of nerves that made Will's eyes fly open and his breath catch. "Oh god," he breathed. "More!" Jack chuckled slightly, Will wanted more did he? He'd give him more.

Will stifled a whimper as Jack pulled his fingers out. Jack slung Will's legs around his waist, one hand on the whelp's hips, the other on the wall by Will's shoulder. Positioned at Will's entrance, he pushed himself in, controlling himself so as not to hurt him. Will's eyes were shut tight, and he fought not to squirm. But it hurt. "Move with me luv, an' it won't hurt so much," Jack whispered in his ear. Will did as bid him, meeting Jack's thrusts, arms still around his necks.

Under normal circumstances, he would hate Jack calling him luv, or pet, or whelp. But he lapped it up. It let him know he wasn't alone. The beads and trinkets in his hair clinking, Jack reached down and grasped Will's erection laying firm against his stomach. Will let out a high pitched moan, he was so close, so close, and then Jack pulled firmly on him, and he was spiraling down into a pleasure filled abyss, crying out Jack's name, his muscles clenching for what seemed like eternity. He fell over toward Jack, gasping. Jack pushed himself up, grinning at Will.

"Here," he handed Will a cloth, to wipe his stomach. Will didn't look at him, he was tired, and felt odd. Not clean. He didn't want to let Jack sleep on his bed, but tiredness won out, and he simply curled up away from him. But Jack threw an arm around his waist, and pulled him close. As far as he was concerned, his plan had worked. Worked very well in fact. Now he just had to wait until William was asleep, and get out of bed without waking him, lower a long boat without alerting the crew, and find another island and…his snores soon filled the room. They only added to Will not sleeping. For hours it seemed he lay on his side, staring into the darkness of the quarter, eyes wide, and his heart thudding painfully loud in the chest under the bed.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: same as usual. I own nothing

Author's note: so this chapter is where it all goes angsty. It may come off as a bit cheesy or fluffy near the end, but that's how a lot of my stuff ends up. And it tends to work out. So enjoy.

Sunlight streamed through a hole in the wall of Will's quarters directly onto Jack's face, across his eyes.

He looked around, suddenly very awake and annoyed. Ruddy sun, blinding him when he was trying to sleep. Growling and muttering to himself, he pulled the sheets back up and tried to go back to sleep. In Will's bed. Where Will wasn't. "Dammit!" he yelled. He'd slept late and missed the chance to commandeer a long boat and leave. By now the whole bleedin' ship was up and going about their duties. Including their captain. Well, as mad as he was about missing his chance, Jack was content to stay a little while longer. He didn't really _want_ to leave. Not just yet.

Meanwhile, Will was very nearly in a rage. His crew left him alone, even his father. It was clear Will didn't want to talk about whatever was his problem. 'He just was after sex,' he kept thinking over to himself. It was clear. How could he ever have thought…but it was Jack. He would never…. He'd left Jack, drooling with his mouth open, on his bed. For now. He was disgusted with the captain, and himself. He was a fool.

Adding his hat as a final touch, Jack got himself dressed, his effects securely on his person. He had to go out there sometime, it might as well be sooner than later.

"Why'm I so worried anyway? Just the whelp. What's he gonna do? Lock me in the brig again?"

Jack reassured himself. He didn't have to worry about it. His resolve faltered, for pretty much the first time ever, once he opened the door and strode up on deck and found himself face to face with William.

If looks could kill, Jack would have been dead three times over from the glare Will was aiming at him. Will was exhausted from staying up, staring into the gloom of his room, and he was pissed off. He had dark circles under his eyes, and a scowl set on his lips.

"Mornin' whelp," Jack said uneasily, trying to grin. Will didn't respond, just walked away, down deeper into the ship. Jack followed, trying to make conversation. He wasn't sure why, but Will not talking to him bothered him, and he had to try to draw him into talking.

"Are you going to talk to me at all whelp?" he asked finally."Don't call me that!" Will rounded on him. It seemed he would talk now they were in a secluded place. "What d'you mean? I always call you whelp. Term of endearment, remember?" "No Sparrow. I don't want to hear you call me any thing like that again," Will's eyes were blazing and he was pacing in front of Jack.

Jack winced. Will was calling him 'Sparrow'. That wasn't a good sign. His perfectly laid plans had been tossed into the air, and he was actually worried. Will was deadly with a blade. And he had certainly pissed Will off enough apparently to merit meeting the business end of the lad's blade.

"I'm not so common harlot Jack. You shouldn't treat me as such. I thought, after anything, that we were at least equals. You sunk lower than I ever thought even you could," Will snarled. "I didn't mean-" Jack started, but was cut off. "You did Jack. You got me drunk and took advantage. I trusted you. What were you thinking? You'd take me and just leave? Was that the great and clever plan of Captain Jack Sparrow?" "Well originally," Jack mumbled. "But it back fired didn't it? You slept late, and ran into me. And now you're worried I'm going to kill you like I should've the minute you set foot on my ship, aren't you?" Will stopped his pacing and stood directly in front of Jack, who had back up into a barrel. "A bit worried yea. I'm not immortal like you," Jack growled. But his eyes were wide, and he had the look of a frightened animal caught by a predator. He'd never seen Will like this.

"I'm not going to kill you."

"Come again?" "I'm giving you what you want Jack," Will said softly. He turned around, going father back into the ship, leaving a stunned Jack. He came back, a crate in his arms. He shoved it into Jack's arms, and then turned Jack around, shoving him up on deck.

The crew watched, slightly worried, as their captain roughly lowered a long boat into the water.

"Go," Will said in a cold voice, gesturing to the ladder down. "What? Go where?" Jack asked. "Get off my ship. Row anywhere. Your death, some island, Tortuga, I don't care. Just get off my ship!" he pushed Jack toward the ladder, nearly pushing him off the ship. Jack sighed and nodded. Well he was getting what he was fairly certain he wanted.

"Will? Everything alright?" Bootstrap asked gently. "Everything's fine. Jack and I just had a…disagreement. I'm giving him what he wants," Will's voice was tight. His father watched worriedly as his son took the helm. And he noticed how Will's jaw was clenched, and the white-knuckle grip he had on the helm, and the look in his eyes. What had Sparrow done?

Jack himself wasn't certain what he'd done. All he knew was he'd made a mistake. He'd watched the Dutchman sail away, in the opposite direction. It was like the locker out in the middle of the ocean. Time was tricky. It had only been a few hours, and the sun was sinking down toward the horizon. But it felt like days, or weeks, maybe even years to Jack, as he lay in the long boat, drinking the rum. Which he could hardly swallow past the highly annoying lump in his throat.

"Why am I so upset about this anyway?" he asked himself. "I did get what I wanted."

"Did you really Jackie?" a tiny voice squeaked in his ear. He sat up. _'Not this again,'_ he thought, groaning. A tiny Jack had appeared on his shoulder. "Is this really what you want? Floating in a boat in the middle of the ocean with an ever dwindling supply of rum?" the little Jack asked. "It is what I want. I'm free. I can go anywhere," the real Jack said indignantly. "Oh really?" another Jack appeared on his other shoulder. "I would've thought you'd want to stay on the Dutchman where you had rum, and food, and a warm place to sleep, not out here where you'll drift until you're picked up, or dead. Besides, the whelp was on the Dutchman." "Why would I care about the whelp?" Jack asked warily. "Why wouldn't you," asked the first little Jack. "There was something there. You're just too much of a lump to notice it. And now, you'll never get a chance again. Unless you go after him now." "What?! No! Never!" Jack yelped. "Then why did you make all those plans specifically for Will? Check your compass if you don't believe us Jackie." Both Jacks disappeared.

Jack flopped back against the floor of the long boat. Was that his problem? What he wanted? He flipped open his compass. "Damn."

It was pointed in the direction the Dutchman had left. Those damned little Jacks had messed with his mind.

But they did unfortunately have a point. He felt guilty, something he wasn't used to feeling, about hurting Will. And all his plans did pertain specifically to the lad. It all made sense to him now. The compass flicking to the ocean at random times, the curious feeling when Will had fallen asleep on him, everything. He should go after Will and explain. And, sadly, apologize. If the whelp would listen. He had a stubborn streak to match his own. As darkness gathered, Jack reached down in the longboat, pulling up the oars. "The whelp better be worth it," he muttered, starting to row.

Will hadn't moved from his post at the helm all day. He was hungry, but too angry to take much notice of the gnawing feeling in his belly.

"William. Go to bed. Get some sleep. It's been a rough day for you," Bootstrap said, easing Will away from the helm. "I don't want to," Will protested. "I insist son. No offense, but you look like hell. What happened?" Bootstrap knew his son had been lying about what had taken place between himself and Jack. Will shook his head. He didn't want his father to know. He was ashamed he'd let Jack do that. That he'd thought… well it didn't matter what he thought. Reluctantly he let his father lead him to his room. After seeing that Will was resting on his bed, Bootstrap took over at the helm.

The dark pressed in on Will. Only hours before Jack had been there, warm next to him. He'd never thought Jack could sink so low. He'd admit it, he missed his company. What was done though was done. There was no changing it. He'd go back to being alone. Though this time, without the rum.

There was a voice on the wind, of that Bootstrap was certain. Leaving the wheel in the hands of one of the other crewmembers, a man whose face had once been more hammerhead shark than human, he walked to the back of the ship. Peering into the dark, the lanterns flickering over the water, he searched for whoever was speaking. There was a darker shape riding the waves. As it got closer, the lanterns revealed it to be Sparrow.

And he was signaling that he wanted to come aboard.

_PirateTurtle4: Oooh. Cliffie. Will Bootstrap let him on? Stay tuned_.


	8. Chapter 8

Authors note: I don't own anything. Minus the plot.

Bootstrap watched as the longboat carrying Jack leaped over the waves, bringing him closer. He didn't want to let him on board, but he _was_ curious as to what had made his son so angry. And he felt Jack should answer for whatever he had done.

A line thumped across the body of the longboat, sliding into the ocean. Jack lunged for it, grabbing tight. He looked up, seeing it was Bootstrap who had helped him out. Well he had bailed Jack out before, or at least stood up for him. He climbed up to the deck of the Dutchman. "Appreciate the line Bill," he started to say, when a fist collided with his face.

Jack fell backwards, clutching his nose, which was bleeding freely. "I may've deserved that," he said thickly, trying not to choke on blood. He looked up at Bootstrap, who was nursing his hand.

He hauled Jack to his feet. "What happened today Sparrow? Will only just went to his quarters. He spent all day and night at the helm, he didn't even eat. He barely talked. And it has something to do with you," he prodded Jack in the chest. Jack, usually so good at talking his way out of anything, was at a loss. There really isn't an easy way to tell a former crewmember, 'Oh yes, I shagged your son just for the hell of it, and he got pissed and threw me off the ship, and now I had a change of heart. Can I please talk to him?' So in typical Jack Sparrow fashion, he started getting defensive, and fairly soon, he and Bill were yelling at each other. Or, in Jack's case, yelling as much as one can with blood pouring down their face.

Will hadn't been asleep. He'd been on the verge of it, but he couldn't seem to shut his mind off. And now some of his crew was yelling at impossible volume. As captain, he should break it up. But he really didn't want to. More voices were joining them. He had no choice now.

Cursing under his breath, Will pulled his shirt on and climbed the stairs to the deck. He found his father yelling angrily at someone. Someone who was clutching their nose, blood staining their face.

"Jack?" his voice cut through the yelling, and all those gathered stopped and stared at him. "What is he doing back here?" Will demanded. "Found him sailing after us, yelling to be let aboard. And now he won't tell me what his business is," Bootstrap answered, scowling at Jack. Will rubbed the bridge of his nose. He didn't want to deal with Jack right now. Or ever again. However, he was captain. "I'll deal with him," he beckoned to Jack, who side stepped the crew following behind him and mopping up his face.

Jack hoped they would be having this little chat in Will's quarters. Or the mess hall. Or really anywhere but the brig.

Will locked him in and talked to him through the bars. He leaned against the wall, while Jack sat on the floor. "How did you end up bleeding?" "Your father. Didn't take kindly to me just showing up. This is the greetin' I got," he grinned wryly, gesturing to his face. "Well I can say I'm about as thrilled to see you as he is," Will said icily. "That's why I came back see. I wanted to-" Will cut him off, "Why did you do it Jack? Why to me? Was it all an act of sympathy for a night of 'fun'?" "The sympathy was real enough Will," Jack muttered, looking at the floor. "I thought that's what it was. Just a night of your company, and I would be curious about you any more. I could leave satisfied." "How did you think I would feel finding you gone? Did you think about that?" Will asked. "No. 'Cause if I did, I wouldn't leave. I thought only of meself, 'cause I'm selfish I suppose," Jack sighed.

Will sat down against the wall, watching Jack flip open his compass, shake it, and open it again. Unbeknownst to him, it was still pointing at him. "Why are you back here then? You said you could leave satisfied," he asked. Jack gave him a withering look. "Thought you weren't a simpleton William." Will glared at him, and he figured, given his situation, teasing the captain wasn't the best idea. "Clearly, I wasn't satisfied. Came to me out in the longboat which you so unceremoniously tossed me into," Jack shrugged, trying to make light of a rather awkward conversation.

Jack glanced away from his compass to see puzzlement on Will's face. He growled. The whelp wasn't going to make this easy was he? He pulled himself to his feet, slipping his arms through the bars and leaning against them. "Listen here William, 'cause going sentimental isn't my way.

I'm a pirate lord; we're a tough lot. I seen things what shouldn't be seen, and barely batted an eye. But seein' Jones stab you, and you dying, well, that was painful. I never meant for you to take on that burden. I was going to. But if it saved your life, I could do that. Rather you alive an' sailing forever than dead an' not cursed."

The rogue captain stopped talking, letting Will take it all in. He had, if not all the time in the world, than at least a good amount of time. Which was fortunate, as it would most definitely take William a long time to wrap his head around what jack had just said.

"I want to believe you Jack," he said after a few minutes. Jack looked up. "But I'm disinclined to. And it's your own doing. Why should I believe you? You frequently lie, you make a sport of it." Will's word stung very slightly, but Jack didn't let it show. "You want proof William?" Will nodded hesitantly. "Come here then. Look at me compass." Will didn't move. "William. Look. At. My. Compass." He held it in his open hand, through the bars of the brig. Will moved closer, slowly, almost as though Jack was holding a live poisonous snake rather than a unique nautical tool. He peered over and saw, wide eyed, as the needle followed his every move.

His gaze drifted upward to meet Jack's.

"Are you saying what you want most is-"

"Yes whelp. You. Apparently."

"And you're not-"

"Lying? No. You can't fool this compass. Even if at times it may be to one's own benefit."

"And what if I don't feel the same?" Will asked.

"You obviously do. You said yourself you wanted to believe me. And were hurt more than most by what I did. For which I do, again, apologize. Take the compass Will. It knows what you're really thinking an' feeling, even if you don't, or don't want to believe it," Jack dropped the compass into Will's hand.

Curiosity winning over, Will opened the compass. Damn. Jack was right. About it all. "How?" "How Will? No one ever knows do they? Spendin' so much time together, that's what done it. I blame you. You grew on me. Now can I get outta the brig?" "Not yet," Will grinned for the first time since he and Jack had had their poker game.

"Why? I want out. Now!" Jack demanded. "Because Jack, you're going to explain this to my father." Jack lashed out, grabbing a hold of Will's shirt and pulling him close to the bars, "I'm to what?"

* * *

"An' so I flipped open me compass, it points to whatever you want most, an' it was pointin' towards Will. Thought I could have a night of sport, and leave at that. But the whelp's grown on me. In an annoying, attractive sorta way," Jack shrugged.

Bootstrap rubbed his chin, looking intently between his son and Jack. "You're alright with this William?" he asked. "I think so. I held the compass as well. Although, Jack, you won't go back for the pleasurable company?" Will asked. Jack groaned, the lad was truly enjoying making him uncomfortable. "Hang the whores. D'you know, not once in my long stay on Tortuga did I seek out their company? An' after the…other night," he said with a quick glance to Bootstrap, "I don't really want their company. I'd prefer to stay here with you." He said the last in a barely audible growl.

"Good enough for me. But listen Sparrow, you pull another stunt like earlier, I'll bloody yeh again. But with my sword," Bootstrap threatened. Jack waved it off, he wouldn't. One, he cared about Will. A lot. Two, the last thing he wanted was a pissed off Bootstrap. His nose was still tender.

Once his father was gone, Will unlocked the door, letting Jack loose. And found himself pinned to the wall. "I could kill you, pet," Jack hissed. "If it was all true Jack, what's the shame in admitting it?" Will asked, suppressing a snicker. "Because I'm captain Jack Sparrow. I don't admit things like that, no matter how true it may be!" "But won't kill me, will you?" "No. I won't. I can be an honest man. And d'you recall what it is I told you about honest men?" Now Jack was the one smirking. Will shook his head, confused. "You have to watch out for the honest ones. You never know when they may do something stupid. Like this."

Jack leaned in, nibbling along Will's neck, nudging his knee between Will's. He sucked hard on Will's neck, leaving an imprint of his teeth around a deep purple bruise. "Jack! Jack get off!" Will pushed Jack away. "What's the matter? Embarrassed bein' my pet?" Jack taunted. "No, but the back of my legs hurt," the lightest blush crept up Will's face. "Means it was good." "I'd rather walk normally. Not like a drunkard or like I was pounded into a wall." "Which you were," Jack chuckled. "Shut it," Will snapped.

"Make me."

"I will."

"I'm waiting."

"What if I said I would leave you here, while I lay in my bed? And wouldn't share my bed at all with you?" Will suggested. Jack opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came to him. "You win this round William," he stalked off.

Will snickered. To think, merely hours before, he had been more than willing to kill Jack for everything. And now he was in, it seemed, some sort of relationship with him. It could have been worse though, he figured, rubbing his neck as he went up to take the helm.

"See you and Jack made up, as it were," Bootstrap noted, looking out from the helm. Will looked around at him, puzzled. "You've got a huge bruise on your neck son. Almost looks like you were attacked by a whelk," Bill grinned ever so slightly. He could accept his son and Jack. Since it seemed Jack was sincere, for once, and his son had, for lack of a better term, tamed him somehow. But he meant what he said about bloodying Jack if he did wrong.

Will scowled, rubbing his neck. "I wasn't expecting him to do that. It wasn't the most pleasant feeling in the world," he admitted. "It's been awhile since I saw your mum, but if memory serves, it usually isn't." Silence between father and son. "So to wrap it up, be careful son, and mindful of Sparrow," Bill said, leaving Will to get some sleep. "I will be. I know how to handle him."

Some hours later, as the sun was rising, Will left the helm in the hands of one of his crew. He wasn't sure which, he was too tired. Pushing open the door to his quarters, he found Jack sprawled on _his_ bed, clutching a bottle of rum, a plate of half eaten food on the desk, a crumbs everywhere. Sighing heavily, he picked up the bottle, put it on the desk with the plate, and shoved Jack.

"Move it Jack." Jack opened one eye, glaring at him. "What?" "This is my bed. I'm sharing it with you. That means I actually get some bed to sleep on. So shove over," Will lay down, nudging Jack to the side. Jack grumbled and swore, clearly displeased about being moved. "Good night Jack," Will chuckled. Jack muttered in response. But the meaning and affection were clear enough.

Especially considering that once more as Jack drifted off he threw his arm around Will, holding tight to him.

_PirateTurtle4: you know, this wasn't originally what I had written down. I just made this up. It worked better I think. Was I right? Let me know please, if its not too much trouble_.


	9. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: you all know by now, nothing but the plot is mine. If I owned the characters and such, I'd be fabulously wealthy…and I'm not._

_Author's note: well, I'd just like to say thanks to those who reviewed. That someone out there reads what I write, and likes it, is what helped me get this far, into ten chapters._

Poor William had got himself worked into a right state. They were crossing over, and the last time they had done so, Jack had nearly died. For the fifth, or was it the sixth time? Either way, he didn't want that happening. And the most maddening thing was, Jack was calm about the whole matter.

As Jack had said to Will, he trusted him not to let him die. Will wasn't sure he could live up to that yet. He hadn't been at his post as captain of the Flying Dutchman long, and all the other times he'd saved Jack, luck had been on his side, along with a few other pirates.

"William!" Jack greeted Will cheerfully. He was lounging on Will's bed, guzzling rum and cramming bread into his mouth. "Care for some bread?" he asked. Will froze; Jack had accidentally sprayed breadcrumbs all over his face. "No, thanks. I came to tell you, we're crossing over. So stay down here, and stay out of trouble," Will said. "Ah but trouble's me business lad. Am a pirate after all," Jack winked. Will sighed; he really didn't want to order Jack about. He wouldn't listen anyway. "Just…stay here. Drink to your hearts content. Please?" Will asked, no begged. "Since you asked in such a nice way," Jack agreed.

Will sighed with relief, and left Jack, going on deck to take the helm. Jack watched him go, enjoying the _back view_, and took the whelp's advice. As it was what he had planned on doing anyway. Three and a half bottles later, which for Jack equaled about a half hour to an hour, he was in the blissful state known as passed out happy drunk.

Countless little boats floated around the Dutchman, lanterns bobbing, casting weird shadows over the water, where the bodies of the poor souls without a raft drifted about.

Will oversaw the souls gathering about on deck, keeping track of them all. He turned away from his view of the deck and found himself staring into eyes once a warm brown, now pale and lifeless.

There was a spark of recognition between the two. Well clearly, seeing as they had once been betrothed.

"Elizabeth," he gasped. His throat was tight, and his eyes hot. "Will," she whispered, looking both happy and terribly sad. "How…why…why haven't I seen you?" he asked. "I was afraid of you seeing me like this Will. I didn't want you to see me, and have to…to take me over. But it was worse out there. I had to come finally," and almost as though she read his worried mind, she smiled faintly. "It didn't hurt. Dying. It was just, boom, and I was gone. Did you get your heart?" He nodded, unable to speak.

"Good. And don't dwell on it Will. I miss you, but I don't want you to suffer. Will you promise not to?" "I'm better now. And Jack sends his regards," he grinned very slightly. She rolled her eyes, "That pirate is nothing but trouble. Though I am glad he's not dead either." She stayed by his side while he steered the ship to the point of crossing. They knew it was time once more to part. "Elizabeth, I'm-" "I know Will. Goodbye." He blinked and she was gone. Permanently.

All the progress Will had made in getting over the loss of Elizabeth had been shattered seeing her once more.

He thought he'd been over it. It was of the past, and had hurt, but he was sure it was all behind him. Now everything thing he had thought was back with a vengeance. It was all the more real, her death. She hadn't just been his love; she'd been his childhood friend, his first crush, and his comrade in arms eventually.

He walked slowly, as if in a daze, down to the deck. "Son," his father asked, "is everything alright? I saw, and-" "I'm fine. I'm, uh, going to get something to eat. And lay down. I'm tired," Will said absently. Bootstrap nodded in understanding, pity evident in his gaze. Will took an apple from a barrel, leaning on the rail, watching the clear blue Caribbean waves lap at the sides of the ship. He could hardly taste the apple, though it was tart, and juice dribbled down his chin. Sighing angrily, he tossed the barely eaten apple into the sea and wiped his chin.

He didn't want to eat, or sleep, or do much of anything. But he didn't want to be on deck. He trudged down to his quarters, and the sight that met him almost made him forget why he was upset.

Jack had fallen, passed out, in a most unusual manner. His upper body was on the bench by the bunk, one arm dangling down and holding a bottle, and his hat was over his face slightly. His legs were up on the bed, against the wall. He was snoring, blowing his hat up slightly with each breath. He hardly moved when Will settled down at the head of the bed, drawing up his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them. He stared into the room, watching the light fade. He could get up and light the lanterns, but he was relatively comfortable, and he didn't want to wake Jack. Besides, his mind was still full of Elizabeth.

Jack came to gradually, with a crick in his neck and back from the awkward position he had fallen to. He slowly forced himself up, tipping his hat back into place. He ran his sleeve across his face, wiping the drool from sleep off. He looked up to see Will sitting huddled on the far corner of the bed.

"William?" he got no response. Jack shoved and shifted, sitting up on the bench. He nudged Will's foot, "Whelp? What's wrong?" he asked, feeling slightly worried. Will glanced at him, "Elizabeth was here." "Lizzie? Did we cross over already?" Will nodded. "It was bad and I don't even know why. I suppose because it was so final. She was just…gone." Will swallowed hard, his eyes wide. Jack climbed onto the bed, throwing an arm around Will's shoulders and sidling up next to him. He pulled Will over abruptly, so Will's head landed on his shoulder.

"Listen up lad, 'cause you most likely won't like what I got to say. Lizzie is of the past William. That part of your life is done. You're no longer the naive, albeit charming and noble to a fault blacksmith moonin' after the guv'ner's daughter. You're now cap'n of the Flying Dutchman, and a bloody good pirate. With, now I might add, a fairly amazin' lover," Jack puffed out his chest.

"You gotta look to that future, not the past. Or you'll end up all tentacley like Jones. An' if you don't mind me saying so, you won't look nearly as attractive as you do now with tentacles," he smirked at Will. "That makes me feel so much better," Will said dryly. "Don't tell me you don't feel a _bit _better sitting here with me." "I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel at all better. You're good with words," Will admitted. "Look how easily I convinced you to go aboard what you thought was the Flying Dutchman to get the key to the chest. I can be quite convincing when I want. And when it's too my advantage," Jack preened. "And so modest," Will said sarcastically. "You know, I don't care for sarcasm aimed my way," Jack threatened. "And just what are you going to do about it?"

Jack paused, unsure about the look on Will's face. It was challenging, and cocky, and…seductive. What had happened to Will? He had never been like that before. Jack took a deep breath, and with Will so close, all he could smell was the lad, smoke and ocean. Blacksmith and pirate.

He shook his head. He hadn't thought so far ahead. In his mind, he threatened, in a friendly way, and Will listened to him. He didn't expect Will to challenge him.

"Jack. Jack!" Will snapped his fingers in front of Jack's face, gaining his attention. "What?" Jack burst out of his thoughts. Will stifled laughter, knowing Jack wouldn't like being laughed at. "You know, my father saw this," Will said, pointing to the bruise on his neck. "Well, it could've been worse pet," Jack shrugged.

"How so?" "He could've walked in the other night, when I had you pantin' an' beggin' for more," Jack said slyly. Will's eyes widened, "That _would _have been worse."

"Told yeh."

"Shut it. Again."

"We going into this again whelp?"

"This being what?"

"This being where you tell me to do something, I counter with a witty remark, and you hold the threat of no head board banging ever over my head. Though you may as well, I've been without for so long," Jack said dramatically. "Works though, doesn't it? That threat?" "Unfortunately," Jack growled.

Will laughed out loud at Jack. He couldn't help it. Jack looked and sounded like a petulant child. Jack scowled and mussed up Will's hair. "Teach you to laugh at me." Will shook his hair back, scooting away from Jack. "That's not very nice William. Come back here and bring that rum with you," Jack indicated the bottle of rum in Will's hand.

"Persuade me," Will leaned toward him, grinning lightly. "Please come back?" Jack tried. Please usually got him what he wanted. "I'm not persuaded Jack." Jack swore. He had to resort to his secret weapon what had persuaded many a strumpet to his bed. And considering how soft hearted by nature Will was, he saw it working out in his favor.

He got up on his knees facing Will, his chin tilted down a bit, his hair hanging in his face. He put out his lower lip slightly, and looked at Will through his lashes, making his eyes look downcast. It had come to be called his 'kicked puppy' look, and while he didn't appreciate the puppy thing, it worked a treat. "Please come back?" he asked in a pathetic voice. Will should have leapt into his arms, eager to give him what he wanted. Instead, Will laughed at Jack's attempts.

The next thing Will knew, he was sitting on Jack's lap. Actually, restrained was more like it. One could say Jack was possessive, and one would be right. One only had to look at the trials he went through to get back the Pearl, and keep her. And now Will was his new and only pet, and he wanted to make sure everyone would know. Though, unfortunately, he highly doubted _his_ whelp would want 'Jack Sparrow's property' anywhere on him. He seemed to have an abhorrence to being property. Even if he was Jack's. But he could at least try.

"Whelp?" "Hm?" Will lifted his head off Jack's shoulder. "How do you feel about the prospect of getting a tattoo?" "A what?" "Tattoo," Jack answered, tracing the small of Will's back, just above his breeches. "I'm not getting a brand stating I'm your property anywhere on me," Will said firmly.

_Damn._ Jack knew that wouldn't work.

"Why not?"

"I'm not property Jack."

"But you are. You're mine now. No one else's," Jack said, and he believed it. "When did you decide this? And when did you get my consent?" Will demanded. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow and a pirate lord, I don't need anyone's consent," he said incredulously. "I'm captain here. This is my ship. And I say you need my consent," Will glared at him.

Their _relationship_, if you could call it that, had barely gotten started, and already Jack was making demands. And Will was having none of it. Not even the old Will, the blacksmith, would put up with that. "Fine," Jack snapped, "you're not property." 'Though he really is,' he thought. "Happy now?" Will nodded, pleased that Jack had relented.

"If not a brand stating you're property, then what? You need at least one, every pirate does. It might even be a law," Jack said thoughtfully. "Why not-" Will was cut off by Jack clamping a hand over his mouth. "A sparrow. That's it whelp. On your shoulder."

Will shoved Jack's hand away, "Since I can't seem to dissuade you. And I know you would do nothing but complain, even if I gave you rum, if I don't let you." "You make me sound like some prat like government official type. Or a spoiled strumpet," Jack muttered, pushing Will off him and rummaging around the desk. "And don't say I am," he said over his shoulder. Will shut his mouth, snickering.

_PirateTurtle4: I'm trying not to make this into some big fluff fest fic. And it got a little fluffy there at times. But I needed it, I think, to break the tension. I mean, this will be fluffy at times, but I don't want it to be overly so. Either way, did it perhaps do well enough to earn a review? Please?_


	10. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: the characters unfortunately aren't mine. They belong to Disney or something. And they won't sell them to me:'(_

_Author's note: well, like I said, I'm trying not to make this overly fluffy. However, that seems to be something I'm good at, mindless fluff. Hopefully, I can work on that. In the mean time, all the fluff and whatnot, is all leading to something big. Well…kinda big._

"Ow! Oww! Bloody hell Jack that hurts!"

"Suck it up William. I know from experience it doesn't hurt that bad."

Will ground his teeth. It did hurt, no matter what Jack said. Jack was most likely drunk when he got his. But Will was not drunk, and having a hot needle carving into his skin with ink was painful.

"There. Turned out rather nice, if I do say so me self," Jack blew out the candle and set the needle on Will's desk.

He wiped up the trickles of blood and ink that had slid down Will's back, making Will wince. His shoulder throbbed. The black sparrow stood out clearly against his shoulder, and it was the exact image of the one on Jack's forearm, though without the sun and waves.

Once Jack deemed the ink dry enough, and he couldn't go without food any longer, Will carefully pulled his shirt back on.

He was still scowling. He had figured it would hurt, but not that much. "Come on whelp. Thought you were a pirate, not some delicate strumpet what can't handle a little pain," Jack taunted him lightly, throwing his arm around Will's shoulders and leading him to the mess hall, where food and rum could be had.

There were a few smirks on the crews' lips as they saw how closely Jack held onto Will. Though frankly, they weren't too surprised. It happened, and frankly, a better pair there most likely couldn't be found. Though the teasing would have to be to a minimum. Will may be a better, less cruel captain than Jones, but if the tales were true, he was deadly with a sword.

They were inclined to believe them to be true.

Will got himself away from Jack long enough to sit on the bench next to his father. However, within seconds, Jack had squeezed himself next to him. He listened to the idle chatter between father and son, noticing how Will reached for food with his left arm, leaving his right by his side.

Bootstrap noticed as well, how stiff his son was sitting, trying not to move his right arm. "What's the matter son?" "Nothing. I'm fine," Will answered, shooting a furtive glare at Jack.

Naturally Bootstrap didn't believe that, and with much protest from Will, he lifted his son's shirt, baring the tattoo. He stared at it for a second, and looked to Will and Jack. The former was flushed, the latter, smirking, stifling snickers. He didn't say anything, just rolled his eyes and let the topic drop.

The captain and his father once more turned to talking. When they should next make port, what supplies they might need, things of that nature.

Jack slumped over, resting his chin in his hand. Will was ignoring him, and he was rather bored. He picked at the food in front of him disinterestedly.

Will's leg was pressed tight against his, and no wonder with how close they were sitting, crammed on the bench. Will was soon to find out what a terrible thing it was to leave Jack bored. He tended to get wonderfully wicked ideas.

Will's breath caught in his throat, and he could almost feel his pulse racing. Were anyone to pass his quarters, they would definitely hear his heart thudding against the chest under his bed. Jack was sliding his hand up and down his thigh, his rings catching slightly.

Bootstrap turned away to reach for more food, and Will took that chance to hiss at Jack to knock it off. Jack gave him a feigned innocent look, "Knock what off whelp?" Will growled, but couldn't do more as his father came back. Well, he had strong will power. He could ignore Jack. Hopefully.

It was all a game really. To Jack. He wasn't really going to just have his way with the lad on the table with all the crew eating. Too messy.

He looked side long at Will. His jaw was clenched and he was doing a damn good job of ignoring Jack. He was only rubbing his thigh after all. He chuckled. So the former blacksmith thought he could get away with ignoring him did he? Disguising his smirk with a drink of rum, he slipped his hand between Will's legs.

Will choked on his rum, coughing and spluttering.

He mopped himself up, assuring his father he was alright, the rum just went down the wrong way. He bit back a moan as he fought not to thrust into Jack's hand. He swallowed hard, glaring once more at Jack, and turning firmly away. Jack grinned deviously.

The poor lad was positively trembling, flushed to the roots of his hair. He decided he should stop, before dear William was throwing caution and his clothes to the wind. He would never be able to look at his crew again. Thus entertaining himself with the thought of Will losing his inhibitions like that, he pulled his hand away, resting it on his own thigh.

Feeling lightheaded from his blood surging south then north rapidly, Will repressed a whimper at Jack leaving him like that. He had gone from mortification to lust so quickly it had almost hurt.

Will sighed, annoyed, and found Jack looking at him. The deep brown eyes held a promise of making it up to him. Hopefully, it would be a promise Jack kept.

He would though if Will had anything to say about it.

"What do we need for supplies anyway Cap'n?" Bootstrap asked. "Me an' Jack can pick'em up." "I'm goin' ashore then?" Jack looked around, hearing his name. "Yeah, you can go along too. The rest of the crew is, you should get your chance as well," Will said.

Jack raised an eyebrow. If he didn't know better, he'd swear William sounded sullen. He must not want Jack to go ashore, but was being the gentleman and giving him the opportunity. Which he would take, if only to stretch his legs. Will needn't have worried.

Will did worry though. It was what he did. He knew Jack. And despite what the pirate said, and despite what the compass showed, Jack was easily distracted and entranced by things, and likely to be led astray.

Will wasn't naïve enough to think one night with him and Jack would honestly give up being the traveling paramour he was. He knew there was a very good chance something, or _someone_ might catch Jack's attention and he would have no way of getting him back.

The night wore on, and the men drifted off, or fell asleep at the benches. Will hadn't moved, but sat staring at the far wall, resting his head on his arms, brows creased in worry and thought. He was starting to drift off actually, while Jack made a bigger dent in their rum stores. Will jumped awake when a rough voice whispered in his ear.

"Hope you're not too tired whelp."

Jack was standing by the door, leaning against the wall, the picture of ease. Grinding his fists against his eyes, Will stood up. "I'm not tired. Just thinking," he stretched, the muscles in his back popping. "What about?" Jack asked, watching Will make his way over. "Nothing really. Captain things. Stores, and the souls, that sort of-" He was cut off by Jack grabbing his shirt and pulling him over. He laid claim to his lips, one hand tangled in his curls.

Jack lifted Will, staggering slightly. Praying that none of the crew woke up and saw him, Will wrapped his legs around Jack's waist. They fumbled and tripped to Will's quarters, Will tossing Jack's beloved tricorn hat old red bandana on the desk amid all the other detritus there. Jack grinned against the join of Will's neck and jaw. He could hear the lad's heart thudding against the chest.

Will could hear it as well, and it put a damper on the mood, in his opinion. Sliding down off Jack, he reached under the bunk and seized the chest, shoving it back by the organ with a blanket over it to mute the noise.

As soon as Will crawled out from under the organ, clothes littered the floor. Some not entirely intact. To say Jack was a bit on the eager side would be the understatement of the century.

He found himself held down, resting on his forearms, bent over the bed on his chest. Jack gripped the bed, pushing his length in. Will bit his lip, his forehead on the mattress. He pushed back against Jack with each thrust, a long, drawn out moan escaping his lips.

Jack held himself up, breathing harshly onto Will's neck. He reached around, grasping the lad's dick, twisting his hand. Will gasped. "Oh god, Jack!" His head thrashed from side to side and he bucked into Jack. Only a few more thrusts and he came, shuddering, Jack a few seconds after. They fell against the bed, a sweaty tangle of limbs.

Jack leaned against the bed, supported by his elbows. "Still pissed at me for the business at the table pet?" He got a weak sounding moan for a response. "You're exhausting Jack."

Unfortunately, Will had created something of a mess on the mattress. Cursing Jack, he changed them, with no help at all from the pirate lord.

Jack was far too busy enjoying the play of smooth tan skin over tight muscles as Will moved. Not too mention, now that he looked, Will was in possession of one of the finest asses he'd ever seen in the whole bloody Caribbean. He thought about it. He could go another few rounds. He yawned. Damn it. Or not. Maybe another night. Or day.

Jack was pressed against the wall, Will in front of him looking down at him. Apparently, he was a few inches taller. Will's eyes were half shut. He'd been tired to begin with. Now he was exhausted. However, he wasn't allowed to sleep.

Jack nudged his knee between Will's legs, licking up his neck. "Aren't you ever tired?" he mumbled. "Of this? You? Never," Jack smirked at him in the dark.

"I'm not going to be able to collect souls then, let alone walk," Will sighed. "I can live with that. You can just stay in here all day," Jack shrugged awkwardly.

"But if I don't do as I'm charged, I'll end up with tentacles like Jones."

"Those could come in real useful like," Jack's voice was full of crude laughter.

"You're incredibly crude," Will told him.

"Don't tell me whelp, that the faintest glimmer of such a thought didn't cross your mind. You can't be that much of a prude, what with the compromising situation you were just in. Willingly, I might add."

"Good night Jack."

"Ignorin' the statement only proves my point."

"I said good night!"

_PirateTurtle4: a review would be nice, but I won't make you. It's not the most important thing in the world._


	11. Chapter 11

Will was correct in his assumption that he wouldn't be able to walk the next time he woke. His legs did not want to support his weight, and he had finger shaped bruises on his hips. And all the muscles in the back of his thighs were sore.

Rubbing his back, he gathered clothes and washed, scrubbing with a thin rag and wetting his hair in an attempt to get some of the dirt out. He left Jack sleeping, knowing the other captain could be incredibly surly if woken early. And the last thing one wanted was Jack Sparrow surly. People tended to, at the least, get bottles of rum thrown at them.

He poured himself a mug of cold coffee, adding sugar to balance the bitterness. He saw his father taking over the helm from the crewman known as Maccus, and wandered over. "Morning Cap'n," Bootstrap said tiredly. "Morning Bill. Coffee?" Will offered his father a sip of his drink. Bootstrap shook his head and Will finished his drink, tossing the dregs overboard.

"Saw you limpin' Will. You alright?" Bootstrap asked after a while. Will gave his father an eloquent look. It was early so he couldn't be blamed for not thinking before he spoke.

"Jack's damn insatiable. I never felt so sore in my life." The elder Turner stared at his son, feeling a trace awkward. "Was he always so possessive?" Will asked. "Long as I've known him. Once Sparrow gets it in his head somethin' belongs to him, he'll do damn near anything to make sure it stays in his possession and that everybody knows it's _his._ He's not one to give up easily. And son, looks like you fall into the large category of Jack Sparrow's possessions."

"I told him that in no way, shape or form was I getting 'Jack Sparrow's property' tattooed on me," Will sighed. His father roared with laughter, "Bet he didn't like that." "Naturally. Gave me a look like I'd just taken rum away from him. I was worried yesterday, about him leaving once we made port. But I don't see that coming to be," Will shrugged. "Nor I lad. Didn't seem like Sparrow would ever change his ways, going from port to port, and therefore, whore to whore, and then along comes my son, blacksmith made pirate. Suddenly he's turnin' a blind eye to anyone else, and claiming him as his own and no one else's. How did yeh do it?" Bill asked wonderingly.

"I don't know either. I didn't think I was all that special," Will said, just as surprised. "Not from what I've heard," Bill ticked the events off his fingers. "Commandeered a ship of the fleet. Got the Pearl back and killed Barbossa for a time. Stole the key right off Jones's neck after rescuin' Jack from cannibals and fighting a storm. Once more rescued Jack, from the Locker this time, and led an army of the Brethren to defeat the British Navy and Davy Jones. No you're not special at all," Bill grinned, full of pride, at his son.

"Now that you mention it," Will said thoughtfully, "I do save Jack a lot. Jail, the island of the Peligostas, the Locker, and drinking himself to death. He most likely would have hanged if I had left him in jail all that time ago."

"Ah now that there is what starts a bond William. Savin' each other, trustin' one another. Either way, I'm going to check the riggin', an' our heading. Will we need to cross over at all?" "Not for a while yet, I don't think," Will answered. Bootstrap nodded and left to do as he said.

Jack stretched on the bed, relishing in the small aches and pains in his muscles. Even though he was alone in the bed, it felt good to wake up sore from pounding the whelp into the bed and know that said whelp was somewhere on the ship waiting for him. He sat up, sheets pooling around his waist and shook his hair back, beads clinking. He retied his bandanna and set about looking for his shirt.

How his shirt ended up tangled about that bloody organ in the back Jack would never figure out. He recalled him and Will being in quite the rush, but he didn't think his shirt could have gotten so far. He held it up to pull it over his head and stopped. Even to him, his shirt smelled disgusting. And he wasn't much for personal hygiene. Not really.

He brought his shirt to the small washroom and scrubbed it 'til it didn't smell so much like Kraken breath. The very last thing he wanted was to smell like that beastie and be reminded of all the hell with Lizzie and the Locker. He wrinkled his nose at the thought.

Pulling on his breeches and boots, which were just as scattered as his shirt had been, and strapped his belt and holster with pistols around his waist. Setting his hat on his head, he grabbed his shirt to hang to dry in the warm Caribbean sun. He strode out on deck, finding what was soon becoming one of his favorite sights. Another thing he would never admit out loud.

Will leaning over the railing, his hair stirred about his face by the wind, staring off distantly. His loose white linen shirt caught the sun's rays, showing glimpses of the tan skin underneath. And how was it he had never noticed the way the lad's breeches clung to him before? Well he hadn't exactly been staring at Will's ass before, which would explain it. Because he never thought in a million years that he would be in the situation he now found himself in.

'Snap outta it Jack,' he scolded himself. 'You push yourself on the lad too much and he'll send yeh away. Most likely.' With that thought firmly in mind, he hung up his shirt and strolled over to his pet. He leaned on the railing next to him."Mornin'."

"G'morning Jack," Will turned a warm smile on Jack, his eyes bright. Jack, for perhaps the first time in his life, faltered. His mouth went dry, just from that smile. God he could use rum, and it was barely past sunrise.

"Jack are you alright?" Will asked, concerned. Jack shook his head, "I'm fine whelp, no worries. So are you still sore'n'limpin'?" He grinned slyly. "More than you can imagine. All my muscles hurt, and I've got finer shaped bruises on my hips," Will said scoldingly. "Oh my apologies dear William. I'll be ever so much more careful the next time I slam you into the bed," Jack said in a fit of mock gallantry.

Will rolled his eyes and shoved Jack before leaning against him. "Where's your shirt?" "It smelled like a certain terrible beastie what ate me, so I washed it. And now it's hangin' out to dry. Where're we going an' when are we going to get there?" "Not one for patience are you," Will said dryly. "I reckon we'll find an island in a day or so, where we can restock, make repairs if necessary, and the crew can stretch their legs." There was a stiff breeze blowing, filling the sails.

"P'raps Calypso finally eased off on me an' will leave me alone," Jack said, indicating the fair weather they had. "That's good news for us. I was beginning to think you were bad luck Sparrow." "I am not bad luck! I'm the opposite, I'm…"Jack trailed off, thinking.

"Good luck?" Will suggested, chuckling. "Stop laughin' at me whelp," Jack put a hand between Will's shoulder blades and shoved him forward, making him pitch over the rail the tiniest bit, like to remind Will he could easily toss him overboard.

"Watch it Jack," Will warned. "I won't die from that, and when I got back aboard, I'd see you put in the brig for throwing me overboard. For an indefinite amount of time." "And where would that leave you pet?" Jack leaned in toward Will, smirking suggestively.

"Laughing at you, begging me to let you out." Jack's eyebrows rose up, "Sure it wouldn't be you on the outside o'me bars beggin' for me?" "Very sure." "What say you to a wager then William? There'll be no pounding of you into the bed 'til we get to this island you seem to think we're going to find," Jack offered. He highly doubted Will would take the wager.

"What are the stakes?" Will asked. Once more, Jack hadn't thought so far ahead. He had to ponder upon the stakes. "If I win, by you simply submitting and beggin', then you become William, my own personal cabin boy, put here for naught but my pleasure. And vice versa if you, by some miracle, win. Which you won't. Do we have an accord?" he held out his hand to Will.

"Agreed," Will shook his hand. "May the best man win."

"I plan to," Jack smirked. "I said best, not worst Sparrow," Will retorted and walked off to the helm, purposely adding a swagger to his walk. He glanced over his shoulder at Jack, and smirking, winked at him.

"So the lad wants to play it that way does he?" Jack muttered, torn between glaring at Will's overly confident attitude, and staring at the retreating, swaggering form. "Well seducin's damn near second nature to me. I'll be winning this wager no problem."

"Jack!" He whirled around. Surely the whelp didn't wasn't giving in already? He'd thought maybe a few hours at least. Though he could be underestimating his own charm for once. "Can I borrow your compass?" Jack slumped. He'd rather been hoping for an early victory, truth be told.

He trudged up the stairs, grumbling. "What for?" "I want a more direct route to an island Jack. Clearly," Will looked at him like he was an idiot. "No need to be snide William," Jack handed over the compass. Will flipped it open, only to find the arrow pointing squarely at Jack, who snorted, amused. Will got his thoughts away from the pirate and towards a route to an island hospitable to pirates. He opened the compass once more and found the needle pointing in a south eastern direction. He ordered the ship in that direction.

"Troubles Will? Wandering mind perhaps?" Jack mocked Will as he handed over the compass. "Stow it Jack."

"Trouble focusing when you're still sore?"

"Jack Sparrow I'm warning you…"

"I've got to get entertainment somehow," Jack shrugged. "Well go get it in some way which does not distract me!" Will snapped. He did as bid him, since he had nothing better to do. Cursing himself and his big mouth, he shifted through crates for rum.

Oh god no! "Why is the rum gone?!" Jack asked frantically. There had been plenty earlier. A loud belch caught his attention. One of Will's deck hands was passed out on his back, surrounded by bottles and clutching one tightly. Jack scrambled over and took the bottle, tipping it down his mouth. A tiny drop slid down his throat. Dropping the bottle and resisting the urge to shoot the man, he stood. Maybe if he slept, this bloody journey wouldn't seem so long.

Night was falling and Will hadn't seen Jack all day. He didn't know he'd been on his bed, alternately sleeping and sulking all day. After he set a watch, and dropped anchor, he went down to his quarters. Jack was sleeping once more on his bed. He had a habit of doing that. Not that he minded, but that bloody wager meant he couldn't sleep on his bed.

Will sighed, as it seemed he was stuck on the floor. Moving quietly so as not to wake Jack, he stripped to his breeches and tried to pull a pillow out from under Jack. But he wasn't as delicate about it as he would have liked to have been, and woke Jack, who bolted upright, startled, sending Will tumbling to the floor, pillow in hand.

"Whelp? What're you doing on the floor?" Jack asked groggily.

"I was getting a pillow,"Will answered sheepishly. "I'm sleeping here, since you already took the bed. And there's the wager and all." Jack blinked at him sleepily, before nodding and lying back down. "So were you in here all day? Why?" Will fluffed up the pillow and tried to find the softest part of the floor.

"The rum's gone," Jack muttered, sounding terribly depressed. Will understood then. Jack was regretting the wager himself, and had gone to console himself with rum, as was his custom, and found no rum. So he was sulking.

"Have you eaten at all today, or stayed in here sulking?" Will asked. "I was not sulking," Jack grumbled. Which was enough of an answer. "Wait here." Will scrambled up and out, leaving Jack looking after him, puzzled. He returned a few minutes later with a plate of food. Shoving it at Jack, he crawled under the bed. Completely ignoring Will, Jack tore into the food, not realizing how hungry he had been.

"Got it!" Jack looked down to see Will crawling backwards from under the bed, clutching a dusty brown bottle. "Rum!" he dropped the plate, reaching out for the bottle. He uncorked it and chugged half of it. "Where'd you get this lad?" he asked, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "When it was just me, and I was in here with nothing but rum, I kept a stash down there, under the floor boards, so I wouldn't have to leave if I didn't want," Will shrugged it off.

Jack finished off the rum, and the plate of chicken, the bones piled on the plate. He lay back, no longer hungry and thirsty, but undeniably bored. He was not one to sit for a long time doing nothing.

"Are we at this island yet?" "Clearly not," Will answered, knowing full well where this was headed and dreading it. Jack sighed angrily. "I'm bored William. And I'm tired, but I don't want to sleep."

Will groaned, his teeth grinding in frustration. "It's your own fault Sparrow."

"I know! Don't think I don't know that," Jack snapped.

Will felt a trace guilty, for baiting Jack. "Maybe I should just sleep somewhere else then," he suggested. "No, you don't have to. It's your room," Jack rolled over, going back to sleep. "How noble. I can stay in my own room, but you keep the bed," Will curled up on the pillow.

He was rewarded for his sarcasm with a biscuit thrown to the head.


	12. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer: while I wish at times I owned this, I sadly don't._

A day and night had passed since the bloody wager. Both Will and Jack were beating themselves up over it. Jack for thinking of it, and Will for agreeing. Them and their damn competitive natures.

Will expertly maneuvered the Flying Dutchman out of sight of the island. While it was friendly toward pirates, according to the compass, the Dutchman had a habit of striking fear into the hearts of anyone who saw it. Not to mention Will just wasn't in the mood to pay docking fees. What he was particularly in the mood for was something that had less to do with fees and more to do with a dark room and a bed. Unfortunately, he had captaining to do, and he wasn't about to give into Jack's wager.

"We leave tomorrow at midday! Be back by then, or I leave without you!" Will yelled to his crew. They muttered in agreement and started to pile into the long boats and row ashore.

"What supplies should Jack and I get?" Bootstrap asked. Will handed him a list of supplies they couldn't do without. "C'mon Jack. Jack! Sparrow!" Bootstrap looked around. Jack had been intent on sneaking into Will's quarters, and tricking the whelp into losing the bet. He wasn't planning on getting caught.

Will watched in amusement as his father damn near threw Jack into the long boat. Also, the look on Jack's face was priceless. Although, this left him alone. Again. Damn.

* * *

"Quit sulking Sparrow. You can go back aboard soon enough," Bootstrap rowed the longboat toward the island.

"I am not sulking," Jack said indignantly. "Jack Sparrow does not sulk." He crossed his arms, glaring out at the island.

"Oh of course not. What was I thinking?" Bootstrap chuckled.

After walking across the island several times, they gathered everything on Will's list. "Could the lad have put more on his ruddy list?" Jack groaned. "I thought we were only getting just the essentials." He lifted the two large cases of rum. "What do you say to a pint?" Bootstrap asked. "You buying?" "I'm buying." "Well then I say yes to that. Lead the way Bill."

Female voices called out to Jack as they threaded their way through the crowds. Old 'acquaintances' of his, or those who had heard of him and wanted to try him. He ignored them easily enough. What were they, who might at the least slap him, at worst kill him and take his money, compared to William, who as far as he knew wouldn't kill him?

"I'm impressed Jack, I'll admit. You ignorin'em like they're nothing but flies," Bootstrap said as Jack sidestepped an attractive brunette. "Spooky isn't it? They just don't appeal anymore. I think I'm thinking with my head and not…well elsewhere, for once," Jack agreed.

"Jack Sparrow!" Jack whirled around, the trinkets in his hair jangling. "Ana Maria!" he said happily. The dark skinned woman grinned at him and slapped him full across the face. "I know I didn't deserve that!" he held his face. "Matter o' principle Sparrow," she shrugged. "Now what're you doin' here, ignorin' the strumpets what want to try you?" "Bit of a long story Ana. Come along with us an' I'll tell yeh," Jack shuffled the crates around and offered her his arm.

Introductions were made between Bootstrap and Ana as they settled around a table in the back of a tavern with a flagon of rum each. "Well, we're here for supplies, and rum o'course," Jack began. "What ship? The Pearl?" Ana asked, downing half her rum.

Jack shook his head sadly. "No, the Pearl's gone, along with 'er crew 'cept me. The ship we're re-supplying is the Flying Dutchman." "I'd heard of that falling into new ownership. True then?" "Aye. An' I'm part of the crew," Bootstrap added. "But what does that have to do with you ignoring the whores?" "I'm getting to that. Hold on."

Jack finished his rum, and leaned back, enjoying the rapt attention Ana was giving him. She only listened when it was some interesting bit of gossip, and if it was about him, so much the better. And he didn't have a problem divulging the nuances of his love life, if that's what it was.

"D'you recall the lad who was tryin' to rescue his bonny lass when I was trying to get back the Pearl?" Jack asked. "Aye," Ana nodded. "Well, William, that's his name, fell on hard times. Lost his lass to a collapsing roof in that hurricane not long ago. And I paid him a visit," he continued. "Yea, but what does… that…oh!"

Realization dawned on her and she looked at him wide eyed. "Do you mean to tell me that Jack Sparrow, who found pleasurable company on every island he ever made port on, has given up that life all 'cause of some whelp blacksmith turned pirate?"

When Jack nodded, smiling coyly, Ana Maria burst out laughing, a loud infectious laugh.

"Oh Jack, I never thought I'd see it. You'd best watch out for the whelp though. When the whores find out he made them lose their best customer, they'll be right angry," she said fondly. "I suppose you're right. Didn't think of that. And odder things have happened. I made good on getting your ship didn't I?"

"Aye, you did. So tell me, the whelp any good?" Jack looked fleetingly to Bootstrap. "I think I'll see about a room for the night," Will's father said quickly, and left. "Yes Ana, very, very good." "He looked like he could be, though maybe too soft for me. Thought for you too," she raised an eyebrow at him. "Well you'll never know. He's mine," Jack said firmly. "Don't worry about that Jack. Far be it for me to come between you and something that's yours."

* * *

Will was undeniably unhappy. He'd propped a chair against the mast and sat, at first, sharpening his sword, eventually staring out to sea. He hated times like that, when the crew was gone, and he had nothing to do. But he had to let them go ashore for a little while. Just because he had to stay on the damned ship for 10 years didn't mean they had to.

He leaned back, semi at ease. However sudden loud cursing jerked him upright too fast. The chair shot forward and he slid down the mast hard, landing on his back. He got up, groaning, and set up his chair.

The sight Will saw when he looked over the side of the ship was really too much. Jack was standing in the longboat, stuck. He had two cases of rum, and couldn't get them and himself up. "Don't just stand there whelp! Help me!" he yelled. "But I'm rather enjoying watching you struggle. It's amusing," Will grinned, leaning on the rail. Jack growled, "William. Help me. Now!" "I don't want to lose the wager," Will called. Damn that wager!

Jack thought hard about his situation. There was only one way out, and he wasn't pleased with it. "Reach for my hand at the same time. No one wins, no one loses," he said grudgingly. Will was, for good reason, stunned. "Are you certain you're Jack Sparrow? The Jack Sparrow I know would never willingly lose a bet." "The Jack Sparrow you know is getting right pissed William, now help me!"

Once on board, Jack leaned over, almost falling back overboard, and hauled the rum up. "Couldn't leave that there," he explained over his shoulder as he carried the rum down to the holds. "No of course not," Will muttered. "I'm not sitting here resisting the urge to shove you against the wall or anything." Poor lad was nothing but pent up sexual frustration. He stalked up and down the length of the deck. The few days had not been kind to him.

Jack strode back on deck, trying to uncork rum. Will grabbed him by the jacket, pushed him against the wall, and crushed their lips together, almost bruising. Jack, surprisingly, pushed him away, gasping. "Almost dropped me rum," he said, a grin quirking at his lips. Will growled. "What's the matter luv?" Jack chuckled deviously. "I could kill you for that bloody wager," Will snarled. "But you won't."

They bickered back and forth, still with Jack pushed against the wall, until Will finally put an end to it.

"Enough! You're impossible. And now I don't even remember what we were arguing about," he sighed. "I almost dropped my rum," Jack prompted. "Ah yes, the rum. And I was resisting the urge to have you here against the wall," Will murmured. "I've been known to have that effect on people. Now, isn't it just you and me here. Whole vessel to ourselves as it were?"

Will whimpered. Damn Jack was not helping his situation. In fact, he was doing the opposite of help. Needless to say, Will was driven beyond rational thought. Which was how Jack ended up with his jacket pushed off and his shirt in tatters.

"You ripped my shirt," Jack said, stunned at such a display, from Will of all people. "Your powers of observation astound me," Will muttered. "My only shirt." "You can have one of mine," Will snapped. Jack started laughing, ignoring Will standing in front of him, glaring for all he was worth. And his worth was rising more each day to Jack, if just for the entertainment value.

Jack's laughter was grating on Will's already fairly non existent nerves. He was getting far too much enjoyment out of Will's discomfort. Without warning, Jack grabbed Will and switched their positions. He pushed himself against Will, smirking at his wide-eyed look of longing.

"You want me William?" he whispered. Will nodded eagerly. "You want me to take you right here on deck against the wall?" Once more, Will nodded.

"Well I'm not going to."

"But why?" Will demanded, shocked. "It's for you. I myself have no problem with it, but I know you are in possession of a delicate modesty. Imagine if one of your crew decided to come back aboard," Jack grinned upon seeing the bright red flush creeping up dear William's face.

Jack's next words were like music to Will's ears. It had been a kind of torture to have the means to relieve pent up sexual frustration, and yet be unable to relieve himself due to a stupid wager which he was far too stubborn to cave into. "What I am going to do, is throw you over my shoulders, carry you to your…our…your quarters, and have my way with you. I dunno 'bout you, but those two days were murder."

It was like Jack had read his mind. Will had no objections to that plan. Except for the being thrown over Jack's shoulder. He just didn't think Jack could lift him. He was quite wrong. Apparently, Jack's lean frame hid muscle, as Will found himself with a view of the deck and, more importantly, the back, lower half of Jack. His shoulder pressed painfully into Will's stomach, jabbing with every step.

"Ow. Ow. OW!" he complained. Jack ignored him, as usual, and kicked open the door. Will winced as he heard wood bang against wood. "Careful of the door Jack. I don't want to replace it." "You're unbelievable Will. One second ago, you were begging me for this, now you're telling me to not dent your door? Is this what it's going to be like with you?" "Most likely." "I'm going to need more rum."

All thoughts of rum and doors flew from their minds as their clothes fell softly to the floor and Jack prepped Will. He inserted two fingers into his pet, never wanting to cause him outright pain. He added another finger, stretching wide. Will held tight to Jack, his arms linked around his neck. His eyes were screwed shut, and his breath was coming in ragged gasps. His back was pushed against the wall next to his desk. Jack lifted Will's hips away from the wall, looking at him questioningly. "Don't stop Jack. Don't bloody stop," Will said hoarsely. "Wouldn't dream of it whelp."

Jack thrust hard into Will, so hard the lad's head thudded against the wall. Will was beyond feeling menial pain such as that though, for Jack had thrust against the little bundle of nerves that made his eyes fly open and a long drawn out moan escape his lips. Slowing his pace, Jack seized Will's cock, which lay firm against his stomach. He stroked slowly, building the pleasure, teasing Will really. Will bit his lip, he was terribly close to the peak, but Jack was drawing it out, not being fair. Until he too lost all sense of control, thrusting into Will with abandon. Will fell forward, his chin on Jack's shoulder, his muscles tensing as he came on his stomach and Jack's hand. Jack thrust a few more times, coming buried in Will, their twin yells ringing throughout the cabin.

Will was trembling, unable to breath, but feeling much, much, better. Jack was in much the same state. "You're going to have to move Jack. I don't think I can stand up much longer," Will said breathlessly. Jack grunted in agreement and flopped back on the bed. "Never, ever again whelp. No wager ever," he sighed. "You're stayin' in here so long as I can keep you in here. You can captain and that's it." "So glad I've your permission to captain my own ship," Will said sarcastically, mopping himself off. "Be lucky I'm lettin' you do that much. Now come to the bed. It's cold here all by me lonesome."

Will lay curled against Jack, tracing the scars that laced Jack's chest and arms. Jack watched him through half closed eyes, slightly amazed that it was the same whelp who had shoved him against the wall earlier. But that Will was just under the surface, waiting for the chance to come out. "Don't fall asleep yet Jack," Will murmured as Jack pulled Will close, burying his face in his hair. Will wriggled free of Jack's grasp and rummaged around in his desk. Jack watched in sleepy amusement as Will cursed and searched for something.

"Jack. Jack look up here," Will snapped his fingers in front of Jack, as Jack tore his gaze away and looked up to Will's face. "I know you don't go for sentimental frivolities, so I'll make it quick and to the point." Will held out his hand.

Jack's deep brown eyes widened as he took in what dangled on a chain from Will's hand. It was the key to the chest with his heart. "It wasn't always yours. But I'm thinking it could be now. If you want it that is," Will said, looking at the ground. He felt the chain tugged from his hand. He looked up to see Jack slipping the chain about his neck. "You sure whelp? About giving it to me?" Jack asked, brows drawn together in slight worry. Will nodded, grinning very slightly. Jack returned the grin and pulled Will back to the bed.

Will was crushed against Jack's chest, the key digging into him. Just as Jack knew that the demanding Will lurked under the surface, so Will knew that under the crafty, coarse exterior resided a gentler Jack Sparrow, who he would only see. He felt odd, but in a good way. And after several minutes of thought, he figured it out. Acting on impulse, Will whispered against Jack's chest. "I love you."

Jack froze where he was. He felt like he'd been doused in cold water. Will didn't seem too concerned that Jack's breath had caught in his throat and he couldn't talk. Not that he knew what to say anyway. Returning the sentiment felt like a good idea. But did he really mean it? He'd said it often enough to whores, but never meant it. He wasn't even certain anyone had ever said it to him and meant it. Well, his mum might've, but he couldn't recall. Then, using his brains, he thought it out. He respected Will to a point, enjoyed screwing him senseless, and got angry and jealous at the thought of Will leaving him. He supposed then, he could say it and mean it. "Love you too whelp," he said gruffly.

Will rolled his eyes up to look at Jack, who was feigning sleep. They both knew Will had heard him, but Jack was not one for sentiment. Chuckling quietly at Jack's embarrassment, Will pulled a sheet up over him to prevent cold and fell into a blissful sleep.

_PirateTurtle4: hey everyone. Sorry about the long wait on this chapter. The world was conspiring against me, and didn't want me to post anything. Could I perhaps persuade you to review?_


	13. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer and author's note: I'm starting off this chapter straight away with some smut. Just as a warning. Though you probably wouldn't be here now if you didn't like slash or smut. Either way, it's all courtesy of Will and a so-called genius idea of his. Curious? Scroll down and find out. Oh, and only the plot, and I use the term loosely, is mine and solely mine._

Will, attuned as he was to his ship now, woke the instant he felt a change in its motion. The water was choppy, and he could faintly smell ozone. A storm was coming. How wonderful. He had not a fear of storms, but he certainly did not enjoy them. Coupled with that, he got the feeling they would have to cross over very soon.

They were in a fix. Crossing over nearly killed Jack. The downfall to him being mortal. The first time he had passed out, and told him it had hurt something awful. The second time…Jack didn't even recall crossing over! He'd been deep asleep, in a content drunken stupor. Somehow, by some miracle, that had kept him alive. So all he had to do to ensure his lover's safety was see that he drank himself into oblivion. Jack would think it was a brilliant plan. Now all he had to do was keep a large supply of rum aboard the Dutchman.

He poked Jack in the shoulder repeatedly until one dark eye opened, focusing sleepily on him and glaring.

"Whelp…" he said warningly. "Jack, I've got a brilliant idea," Will said excitedly, his eyes shining in the early morning gloom of the cabin.

"William. It is far too bloody early for you and your ideas. Even if it has something to do with rum or you. Now sleep." Jack shut his eye and, though it seems an odd word to use about the rogue captain, snuggled closer to Will.

The Dutchman's captain huffed in annoyance. He was well used to Jack not listening to him. But this was important. He would have thought Jack would surely realize he had a good reason for waking him at this early hour. Sleep was more important to Jack though. It was one of his four main needs, along with rum, sex and food. If all four were available, it didn't matter where he Will, thinking surprisingly clearly for one who had just woke up, determined that all he had to do was make at least two of his needs outweigh his desire for sleep. And, with a smirk to rival Jack's own, he thought of just how to do that.

Actually, Elizabeth had introduced this too him, their last time on that island before he sailed off.

* * *

Jack was one of the deepest sleepers he had ever met. He hadn't woken when Will scrambled onto his, an arm and leg on either side. He laid a light kiss on Jack's lips, then proceeded to lick down his neck, nipping every now and then. Jack mumbled something in his sleep, something about cannons for reasons unknown to Will, but didn't wake. Will drew his tongue down Jack's chest, rolling one of his nipple in his mouth, then licking up a pale scar across his upper ribs. He moved even lower, biting gently at Jack's naval. Jack twitched, making Will freeze, praying he wouldn't wake. His prayers were answered, as Jack merely tossed his arm up by his head and continued snoring.

Settling himself on his stomach between Jack's legs, his feet sticking out over the foot of the bed, Will pulled the sheet over his head. He had reached his goal, though he was still uncertain. Pushing down his uncertainties, Will gripped Jack's hips and took a deep breath. He let it blow out over the tip of Jack's cock, which lay half erect against his legs. Carefully, very carefully, he licked up the shaft and took the tip into his mouth.

Jack frowned in his sleep. Someone, three guesses who, was bothering him.

They were licking down his chest, and they bit his naval! It hurt! But now they were going even lower and…he sat bolt upright, letting out a strangled cry. Or he would have sat up, were it not for the tight grip on his hips. He hadn't known his whelp to be in possession of that strong a grip, or, truth be told, that talented a mouth.

Jack lifted the sheet, peering down at Will stretched out between his legs, sucking on his cock. Will rolled his brown eyes, sparkling with lust and mischief up to Jack. He pulled away long enough to say, "G'morning Jack," then returned to his task. Jack lay back down, gripping the headboard tight. He felt pleasantly weak and shaky as the blood surged from his brain to his groin. He tossed the sheet aside to see Will, who teased him with his tongue. He set a light edge of teeth to him, making Jack buck up down Will's throat nearly. Will focused on breathing through his nose, working around Jack.

Will forced Jack to stay down by simply the force of his grip on his hips. Jack was in a right state, his eyes half closed, his breath coming in short gasps and pleasurable warmth spread through him. "W-Will. N-not going to last," he moaned. Will grinned and nodded, trying not to laugh at Jack so unhinged. He was fine with that. He sucked hard, taking Jack's whole length. That was all it took for Jack to spill warm down Will's throat, moaning loudly. If there was a better way to be woken up, he didn't want to know about it.

Jack reached down and grabbed a handful of Will's curls, pulling him up so they could be eye to eye. Will was licking his lips, but missing. Jack ran his thumb under Will's bottom lip and held it to Will, who licked it. He crossed his arms behind his head."What've you done to me whelp?"

Will too crossed his arms, resting his chin on them. "I would have thought that obvious Jack."

"Not what I meant William. What I meant was, not so very long ago, I was ready to trade your life away to Jones to save me own skin. I think I hated you at one point for being such a betraying, backstabbing, bastard. Until he killed you. Like I've said, I never imagined that he would do that, or that it would hurt me. Hence why you're here, so you would live, sort of," he grinned wryly. "But now, I can hardly imagine a morning where I wake up, and you're not there, or close by. So I ask again, what did yeh do to me?"

"You ask me like I know?" Will sat up slightly. "I saw you just as a means to save Elizabeth and my father. To me, you were nothing but a lowly pirate who I couldn't trust as far as I could throw. And all my troubles were your fault. Now…you're still a pirate, but clearly, I can trust you, and not all my troubles are your fault. Seems to fit though, doesn't it? Me and you?" Will tilted his head to the side.

"That's for dead certain. You're mine whelp. And no one else's," Jack lightly traced the sparrow tattoo on Will's shoulder. "And I love how you consult me about all of this," Will sighed. Jack gave him a look, "Do you want to go anywhere else?" "I'd like to get off the bed and get clothes on." "Why?" Jack was genuinely puzzled as to why Will would want to leave him and cover that gorgeous ass. "The crew will be back soon, and I'd rather them not find the tatters of your shirt on deck, with your jacket. They know of us, but they find that and I think I'd lose a measure of respect. And I don't want that."

Will pulled on breeches and found two loose linen shirts. "Here Jack," he handed one to Jack, who scowled at the offending article of clothing before pulling it on. "Why did you wake me anyway William? Not that I didn't enjoy the manner of waking, but I was having a good sleep." Will looked at him curiously for a moment, before he recalled why it was he had woken Jack up.

"Oh! Yes, my idea. It's brilliant Jack. Honestly," he said proudly. Jack raised one eyebrow, a small smile playing about his lips. "Is that so whelp? Would you care to divulge said idea?" Will perched on the desk, looking incredibly pleased with himself. "You know then, how under normal circumstances, you can't make the journey to the other side?"

"Yes Will. Get on with it, the suspense is killing me," Jack said sarcastically. Will shot him a glare, but continued. "You didn't even know we had crossed over when you were passed out drunk. So, if you were to be passed out drunk every time we cross over, I think it wouldn't bother you," Will finished.

Jack stared at him, thinking it over. It made some manner of sense, surprisingly. "So…rum is involved? Lots of rum?" "That's the general idea," Will answered. "Well, I take back every unkind thing I said about your intelligence whelp. You can be clever when the occasion calls for it." "I take it that's the closest thing to a straight out compliment I'm ever going to get from you, isn't it?"

"Most likely."

* * *

"There's a storm coming Will," Jack noted, shrugging into his jacket.

The sky was a sickly yellow green, with roiling black, purple and blue clouds. "Your powers of observation astound me Jack," Will chuckled, preparing the ship. He was just covering up his own unhappiness at having to cross over in the storm. "I don't like the idea of crossing over in this weather though," Jack mumbled. "You'll be drunk though."

"I still don't like it Will. Too many bad things happen to me during storms. Lost my crew for one. An' I miss'em. Gibbs, Marty, Hell even Pintel and Ragetti. And Mr. Cotton's parrot," Jack leaned on the mast, watching the sail whipped around in the wind. "And I died for another. Sort of," Will said over his shoulder.

Jack flinched very slightly, just a tightening around his eyes and his shoulders. Will paused in his checking the rudder. "What?" "I hate being reminded of that is all," Jack muttered. There was a look in his eyes, one could almost say haunted. "Not only did you die, getting stabbed by the tentacley bastard, and I lost my chance at immortality, but I had to listen to Lizzie's incessant screeching over you being stabbed." Jack made light of it, but there was still the unhappy look about him. Will couldn't stand it. He went to Jack, holding him close, the key around Jack's neck ironically pressed into the scar on his chest.

"What're you doin' pet?" Jack asked. He'd stiffened, arms straight by his sides. "You looked terribly depressed," Will answered, trying to put it all into words. "And I didn't like seeing you depressed. So I was trying to cheer you up I suppose." Jack looked at him, shaking his head and grinning. Will was incredibly sentimental. And that really wasn't a bad thing, all things considered. It was rather nice to be pampered and cared for after a life of hard living.

A throat clearing interrupted the tender moment, and Will leapt back from Jack, nearly falling over. Jack, for his part, remained calm, cool, and collected. Easily embarrassed seemed to go along with the territory of Will being sentimental. Bootstrap was leaning over by the ladder down, an amused smile on his face.

"Hope I'm not interruptin' anything son," he strolled over. "No! No of course not! We were just…uh…" both his lover and his father watched amused as he struggled to speak, and failed. "I'm going to the helm," Will muttered, hanging his head in mortification.

"Shall I go get drunk now love?" Jack asked. "Yea, stay in the holds where you won't get into too much trouble," Will softened the order as much as possible. "Fair enough Cap'n Turner," he saluted mockingly and sauntered away to the holds. "Son, tear your eyes away from the back of Sparrow and focus on getting the ship ready for when the crew returns," Bootstrap teased his son, who blushed brilliantly.

The crew returned within the hour, and by then the wind had picked up even more, slapping waves against the sides of the Dutchman. However, they couldn't wait out the storm, Will could feel it. He had to deliver the souls safely. Jack had said it himself, neither of them the face for tentacles. Jack's cheekbones were far too high and sculpted, and Will was just perfect, if he could do a bit of his own ego stroking.

Focusing immediately on his task, Will steered the ship over to the other side. Through the thick fog, he could see the bobbing lanterns of the little boats coming closer. He oversaw the spirits floating onto the Dutchman's deck. He shuddered; they were so silent and staring. Once all were aboard, he took over, leading them to where they crossed over. There was the flash of green light as the souls disappeared and they crossed back over. Straight into the storm that had been threatening all day.

Wind howled, mingling with the thunder to create a sound as was never heard. It was damn near pitch black, lightening streaking down, throwing bizarre shadows over everything, and rain pelted the crew, soaking them to the bone. The Dutchman was tossed about in the waves, and through it all, Will saw cliffs not far away. With keen senses, Will knew it would do better to wait out the storm. He ordered the crew to make for the cliffs, where they could take shelter in their lee. Steadily as possible, using his fine nautical skills, Will got the ship into the scarce shelter, and working by flashes of lightening, dropped anchor and hauled canvas. Leaving the crew to eat and sleep, Will went to the holds to find Jack.

Jack was found curled on his side in the holds, looking content and clutching a bottle of rum. Even as Will watched, Jack rolled on his back, and several more bottles rolled out from under and beside him. To be true, Will was happy Jack had made it, but he wanted Jack awake. Now. He flicked his sodden curls from his eyes and crouched by Jack, who didn't wake. Desperate times call for desperate measures. So it was Jack was rudely awakened with a wet William straddling his waist and getting him soaked.

"William."

"Jack."

"You're soaking wet."

"It's raining Jack."

"You're getting me soaking wet, and you woke me," Jack growled. Definitely not a cheerful person when woken up. Especially after rum.

"Too bad Sparrow. I wanted you awake, and as Captain I-" Will was cut off by Jack jerking him to his feet and pushing him face first into the wall, pushing his whole body against him and twisting his arms behind his back.

"This what you wanted whelp?" Jack murmured in Will's ear. Will took a shaky breath. Minus the wood digging into him, this was about what he had wanted. Although he was having trouble thinking with Jack's breath hot on the back of his neck. "Well?" Jack demanded.

"Wh-what if this is what I was intending on having happen?" Will stammered. "Lotta 'what-ifs' William. You're getting bold," Jack thrust up against Will, making him moan, then hiss in pain from the way Jack had twisted his arms behind him. "Learned it from you I expect Jack. The 'take whatever you want' attitude." "And is that what you want William? For me to take you against the wall here in the holds?" Jack asked, smirking. Will gulped and nodded. Unfortunately, Jack was feeling like being a bloody tease. Because he released Will, saying "Well, I'd love to oblige, but I'm feeling rather hungry. I think I'll get some food."

Will was stunned, and angry, and in a right state. Jack was going to have food instead of him? He couldn't move from the wall, where he leaned and watched Jack pluck a not yet empty bottle of rum off the floor and stroll out.

Will didn't see however, Jack stopping and picking up a length of rope laying curled on a barrel by the door. He looked it over critically, testing the strength. He smirked to himself. The rope was perfect, strong, but easily tied. He was going to have plenty of fun with that later.

_PirateTurtle4: well, sorry about the shortness of the chapter. But that just seemed like the perfect place to end it. To me anyway. I will most likely, I hope, update again tomorrow. I'm keeping my fingers crossed._


	14. Chapter 14

_A heads up from the author (i.e., me): I would like to think by now its clear I don't own the characters and whatnot. Just the plot. And I hope I didn't anger anyone too badly with that devious (I really like this word btw) little cliffhanger in the last chapter. It was just too good to pass up_

Will was one angry puppy, to put things bluntly. Everything he'd done for Jack of late, and he was dropped, for food. He didn't have a big ego, everyone knew that, but he would have thought maybe Jack would prefer to spend some time in the cabin, or the holds, or anywhere really, instead of filling his stomach. Although truth be told, he was hungry himself.

His stomach growled.

Maybe really, really hungry.

Bootstrap looked confusedly between his former captain and his current one. Will was viscously attacking the food on his plate, and Jack was grinning curiously, one hand occasionally checking his pocket. Neither was speaking to each other. Will rubbed unconsciously at his neck, where Jack had bitten him earlier. Another scar to add to his ever-growing collection of them. Jack chuckled quietly, hiding it with a fake cough as his whelp glared at him.

Jack hung around at the table after Will had gone to bed. He doubted very much that the lad would be sleeping. He didn't intend on making him so mad, but it was amusing to say the least. Besides, he thought, running the length of rope through his hands, once he got a hold of Will, the lad wouldn't be angry anymore. He'd be far from it in fact. He was so caught up in his own little devious daydream; he didn't notice Bootstrap looming over him at first.

"Jack, what did you do to piss Will off?"

"Nothing Bill. I swear," Jack answered, trying very hard to seem innocent. The trouble was, nothing Jack did or said was ever innocent. So his 'innocent' look was anything but. He looked more like he was up to something, smirking at the very thought.

Bootstrap was forced to believe Jack, much against his will. He trusted Jack wouldn't intentionally hurt Will, and would instead make Will far from angry at him.

Jack snuck along to the captain's cabin, keeping as quiet as possible. He pushed the door open slowly, so it wouldn't creak. His whole plan would be ruined it Will heard him. In the faint light, he saw Will's figure lying on the bed, on his back, sleeping. Apparently being mad at Jack took a lot out of him.

Shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter at his own cleverness, Jack slipped his clothes off, including his bandanna, leaving them in a pile by the door. Ever so carefully, he lifted Will's arms so they were up by the headboard, and knotted the rope around them and tied them tight around the wood.

Will leapt up, looking around. He focused on Jack, and his brown eyes narrowed to slits.

"You are going to be so sorry Jack Sparrow when I get my hands on you!" he snarled, lunging forward, only to be stopped by the ropes. "Untie me Sparrow! Now!"

"I don't think so whelp. See, if I do that, harm might come to meself, and you'd be left here tied, all by yourself. Not a very appealing prospect," Jack sat atop Will. Will didn't like that thought, but continued to look pure fury at Jack, who smirked back, unconcerned.

"Now, I need to pay you back for this morning, and for leaving you in such a state earlier in the hold," Jack whispered into Will's ear. He sat back to find Will looking confused. "What's the matter whelp? Did I talk too fast for you?" he teased.

"No, I'm just trying to figure out why you bound me to the headboard."

"It works to my advantage," Jack shrugged.

"But not mine? Come one Jack, let me go," Will turned his melting chocolate eyes to Jack, looking through his lashes and pouting. Jack laughed at his efforts, "You certainly know how to use what you got against me. Tryin' to use yer looks to get what yeh want."

"I don't suppose it worked?" Will asked, straining at the ropes. "No, now quit twistin' about, yeh'll cut your pretty wrists, and I'll not have you bleedin' to death on me." "I can't die Jack." "I still don't want blood everywhere. It's so hard to clean out."

Jack pushed Will so he was laying back all the way with his arms stretched above him. He leaned in, kissing him, licking along his lower lip. Will let out his breath in a sigh, thoroughly enjoying the attention. Though he was going to have terrible cramps in his arms and cuts on his wrists later, he didn't care. He would heal.

Keeping eye contact with him all the while, Jack licked a thick line down Will's chest. Will shivered, the rope carving into the tender flesh of his wrists. He wasn't bleeding, but he was rubbed raw. He figured Jack would pay him back exactly for that morning, and nothing more. He found out he was wrong, when Jack ignored his erection laying against his stomach. He whimpered low in his throat, full of need. Jack wasn't being fair, again. He lifted Will's legs and licked gently up his entrance. Will bucked up, a squeak escaping his lips.

Jack pulled his head away, and crouched on his knees, holding Will's hips as tight as the whelp had held his. In fact, he had bruises, dark purple on his hips. He felt he deserved a little payback. Will was looking at him through almost closed eyes, his breath fluttering out. Jack held himself ready, only a fine trembling in his arms betraying how much of an effort it was not to have at Will with wild abandon.

"Jack, while I realize you find me incredibly attractive, if you aren't in me soon, I will personally throw you in the brig for a month!" Will cried, his eyes shut and a bright flush creeping up his face. Jack bit his lip to keep from laughing. Will demanding was very funny, as he was embarrassed over half of what he said. But he was more than willing to oblige. Since he didn't want to end up in the brig for a month. He would most likely end up in the fetal position, begging for rum and Will a week in. He just wasn't sure which he would want more. And now was not the time to be thinking it over.

With one swift movement, Jack plunged into Will, a little shudder running through both of them. He slid out, and thrust back in, making Will arch up. "Oh! Oh god Jack!" he mumbled. He gripped the rope around his wrists, for something to hang on to. Jack had a handful of Will's curls, tilting his head back. He leaned forward, sucking on Will's throat, the lad's pulse jumping against his lips. He bit him, drawing tiny droplets of blood. Will gasped, but it was not at the pain. That was lost in the orgasmic rush of pleasure that took him over, sending him straining against the ropes, Jack, everything, his mouth open in a loud, wordless yell that was only drowned out by Jack's.

Will collapsed boneless to the mattress, his arms still tied. He could only hear his heart beat, thudding far back in the cabin, and Jack's breathing in his ear. And then the snick of a blade cutting through the ropes. His arms fell onto Jack's back, which was slick with sweat. Jack pushed himself up slightly, "Still going to kill me lad?" He flashed Will a grin. "I don't have the energy. I'll kill you after I sleep," Will snuggled under the thin sheets on the bed. "Was I too much for you?" Jack snickered. "Damn near," Will yawned. Jack snorted, and rested his head on Will's shoulder, letting himself be wrapped in post sex warmth and content exhaustion. "My whelp," he murmured.

They were quiet, but not quite asleep. "Is there another wake up call in the morning like this one?" Jack asked after a while.

"No."

"Damn. Please?"

"I said no Jack. Only if I get another genius idea," Will sighed.

"So never then?"

Will elbowed him in the stomach, not hard but enough to get his point across. More silence, then, "D'you know, I learned how to give a wake up call like that from Elizabeth?"

Jack sat up, peering down at Will. "From Lizzie? No!" he exclaimed. Will rolled over, propping himself on one elbow, "Yea, right after the great battle, on that island." "Didn't think she, ah, had it in 'er," Jack laughed at his own joke. "Does everything have to be an innuendo or double entendre with you Sparrow?" Will laid back down. Jack stifled more laughter. "What is it this time?" Will sighed.

"Innuendo, mate, is in an' of itself, an innuendo," Jack chuckled.

"I'm going to sleep now."

"C'mon love, admit it, that was clever."

"Good night Jack."

"Heh heh…innuendo."

"How simple things amuse simple minds," Will muttered.

"'Scuse me, I'm not simple!"

* * *

Jack was rudely awakened some hours later by Will shifting in his sleep and smacking the still tender bruises on his hips. He yelped, and shoved Will's hand away. "Watch it whelp," he hissed. "Sorry," Will mumbled sleepily. "Didn't mean to." He was back asleep within seconds, though not as close so he didn't hit Jack's bruises. Jack watched him, sleeping peacefully.

Will had the face of an angel when he slept, his face softened, a pleased little smile playing about his lips. Another thing Jack had to add to the list of things never to admit out loud. He looked around furtively, and seeing no one, tucked a stray lock of hair behind Will's ear. Will nuzzled into Jack's hand briefly before settling back down. Will wouldn't remember that little act of kindness, so Jack's reputation would be safe.

Will slowly opened his eyes, and got an eyeful of Jack's chest. Not an altogether unpleasant thing.

"Mornin' whelp," Jack greeted him. "How long have you been awake?" "I think a few hours. Not many," Jack answered. Will nodded and sat up, stretching. He felt bruised all over. And his wrists were rubbed raw and red. But they were healing nicely, as was the bight mark on his neck.

"Why do you seem to enjoy biting me?" he asked Jack. "Well, I'm staking my claim aren't I? So's everyone knows you're mine," Jack shrugged. "And the tattoo isn't enough?" "Oh you're one to talk pet. Look at the bruises I got 'cause of you," Jack gestured to the finger shaped bruises on his hips. "You enjoyed it," Will shot back.

"That's highly hypocritical of you. I didn't hear you complaining when I bit you."

"Well I am now."

"So am I."

* * *

A sense of normalcy fell of the crew of the Flying Dutchman. They sailed wherever they pleased, crossed over where necessary, and restocked whenever Jack needed rum. Now, Will tried to remain a good captain, and do his duty. However, Jack would occasionally fall into bouts of unhappiness over the loss of the Pearl and the map. And then Will took it upon himself to cheer Jack up in pretty much the only way he knew how, and it always made him feel better. They weren't always locked away in their quarters, but they were in there a good amount of time. Considering all their previous adventures, it was a fairly quiet life.

Until they got perhaps one of the rudest awakenings possible.

Jack and Will were sleeping peacefully, Will with his back against Jack's chest, one of Jack's arms slung around his waist possessively. "Now there's a sight worth dyin' a few times to see," a harsh voice cackled. Jack opened his eyes the tiniest bit.

"Go away Barbossa. 'M sleepin'," he mumbled, eyes drooping shut once more. There was a few moments pause, then, "Barbossa!" Jack tightened his grip on Will, though if it was to give protection, or to gain it, no one knew. Either way, it woke Will, who, upon seeing Barbossa, backed into Jack and pulled the sheet up.

"How did you get here? I left you on that island with that rum," Jack stammered.

"Yeh didn't really think I'd drink that rum did yeh Jack?" Barbossa asked. Jack mumbled something along the lines of "Yea actually".

"How did you end up on my ship?" Will demanded.

"Anythin's possible when yeh've got Calypso on yer side," the other pirate answered.

Will and Jack shared a glance. If Barbossa had Calypso on his side, it couldn't mean anything good. Particularly for Jack. Will looked into Jack's eyes, trying to tell him without words that he wouldn't let Calypso or Barbossa get him. He'd fight them both until he was gone forever. Jack nodded, understanding. But first they had to get some answers.

The pair of lovers turned back to the other pirate, neither liking the little smirk on his face. It left a sour feeling in the pit of their stomachs.

"What is it you want Hector? I've been through enough," Jack sighed heavily. Barbossa looked puzzled. "Oh didn't your goddess tell you? She blew in a storm and dashed the Pearl against the rocks, killing all the crew but for me," Jack said scathingly, like it was all the other Pirate Lord's fault.

"Apologies Jack. I didn't know," Barbossa said. He sounded sincere, but neither Jack or Will trusted it. They treated him like a coiled snake, not moving or saying too much, for fear he would strike. "Then what do you want?" Will asked, wondering how fast he could reach his sword if he needed it. Barbossa grinned evilly.

"I came to tell you Jack, I'm a-gatherin' the Brethren Court."


	15. Chapter 15

_Disclaimer/ author's note: sorry about the wait there between chapters. You'd think that being on February vacation would give me plenty of time to type, but it's not so. I know I sort of left you all hanging there, and threw you for a loop. But that was the point. Oh, and as per usual, I don't own the characters. I wish I did, but I don't._

"What does you gatherin' the Brethren Court have to do with me? With us?" Jack demanded. He had gotten over his shock at Barbossa being there, and was now very clearly pissed that the man would show up their cabin just to chat.

Barbossa gave him a pitying look. He didn't answer Jack, but instead turned to Will. "He must be good whelp, for you to put up with stupidity like that."

Will growled, and Jack reached for his pistol. If what Barbossa said was true, and he had Calypso on his side, he couldn't kill him with a bullet. But he sure as hell could get him out of the room. "Easy Sparrow. You can't kill me with that. What I mean by tellin' you I'm a-gatherin' the Brethren is that you, bein' a pirate lord have ta come as well."

"The last time I was at the Courts, I was lucky to make it out alive. I'm not going back again," Jack said firmly. Will put a hand on his arm, "We can at least hear what he has to say Jack. Then, you can shoot him out the door."

"Smart choice whelp. The Courts need to know of their king bein' dead. Apologies about that," Barbossa added to Will. "And I've somethin' to offer them to make up for the losses from the battle with Beckett."

"And what might that be?" Jack asked snidely. The other Pirate Lord grinned evilly and held out a worn looking map that seemed to be made of pieces of bamboo pressed together. Its spinning sections gave details to many places hidden across the world.

"The charts! Barbossa you thievin' undead bastard! That's mine!" Jack sat up, one hand on his pistol, the other reaching for the map.

Barbossa tucked the map back in his coat. "Ye stole it from me Jack. I'm simply returnin' the favor. It's mine now to do with as I see fit. Now we're going to Shipwreck Cove. You included."

"Well you can find your own way there. You're not comin' on this ship," Jack snarled. "Ah, no worries about me interferin' in your affairs here. I acquired a ship o' me own." The grin Barbossa wore indicated how he 'acquired' the ship. And it wasn't by asking nicely for it.

Jack and Will pulled on shirts and breeches, Jack tucking his pistol into his breeches. They joined Barbossa on deck. "There she is. The Cutlass," Barbossa said proudly, indicating his ship. Jack looked at the ship critically. She was a fine vessel to be true, but she didn't strike fear into one's heart like the Pearl or the Dutchman.

An inhuman screech cut through their talking, and a blur of dirty gray fur leapt onto Jack's back, snatched his hat, and landed on deck. Flashing him an impish grin, Jack the monkey scrambled into the rigging, clutching Jack's hat in his teeth. "I hate that bleedin' monkey!" Jack pulled out his pistol, trying to aim at the furry annoyance capering about in the rigging. Will pulled Jack's arm away, "No worries Jack. I'll get your hat." He climbed easily into the rigging, and it was all Jack could do to tear his gaze from Will's ass.

"Yeh love 'im don't yeh Sparrow?" Barbossa's rough voice sliced through Jack's musings about Will. Jack glared at him, "What if I do? He feels the same. Gave me this," Jack pulled the key from under his shirt. "And what are ye goin' to do Sparrow, when you get older an' he doesn't? Yer not immortal Jack. Yeh'll die someday."

Barbossa glanced at Jack, pleased to see the effect his words had on the other captain. Jack was wide eyed, with a white-knuckle grip on the rail. He looked like he couldn't catch his breath, and his blood ran cold. He hadn't thought of that. All he'd been thinking of was shaggin' Will. But Will wouldn't age. Jack would, and eventually die. He would be without Will, and Will would lose someone he loved. Again.

Will dropped down to the deck, breathing heavy but grinning. In one hand he held Jack's hat, in the other, he clutched the monkey by the scruff of the neck. The monkey glared at him and twisted away to land on Barbossa's shoulder. "Take your pet and go we'll see you at the Court. Now get off my ship," Will said sternly, handing Jack his hat. "Fair enough lad. Be seein' yeh Jack," Barbossa grinned cruelly and returned to his ship.

Jack hadn't moved since Will had given him his hat back. He still stood at the rail, looking out to sea, brows drawn together, lips set in a frown.

"Jack?" Will walked over by him. He got no response. "Jack," he placed a hand on Jack's shoulder, feeling the tenseness in his muscles. Jack startled, looking around wide-eyed. "What's the matter Jack?" Will asked, leaning on the rail next to him. "Nothin' lad. I'm fine," Jack muttered. He turned and walked off in search of rum to help rid himself of the troubling thoughts left by Barbossa.

That was Will's first clue that Jack was lying. Jack never just walked. He would swagger, saunter, sashay, sway drunkenly, strut, but never walk. He looked depleted somehow as Will looked after him. Broken one could say. But Will let him go. He could talk to him later, if he wanted. He had to take the helm anyway.

* * *

Jack had hidden himself well. Deep down in the holds he'd found a dusty old niche, dark and out of the way. He holed up there with a few bottles of rum. But for the first time in his life, rum failed him.

All he could bloody think of was what Barbossa said. Which was most likely the other pirate's cruel plan. Problem was, for Jack anyway, it worked. "Why'd I let myself get so bloody attached?" he moaned, leaning back. "Dammit, it's just William!"

But he was never 'just William'. On how many accounts had Will saved him? How many times had he proven himself clever, brave, and not to mention loyal? Jack remembered the empty feeling when Jones had stabbed Will. He would lose a comrade, a rescuer, a friend. And how warm a bed seemed with Will in it.

Jack wasn't used to feeling this depressed. "Maybe I should just sleep somewhere else. Leave the whelp alone," he murmured to himself. But even as he said it, he knew he couldn't do it. He loved Will too much, he finally admitted to himself.

* * *

A captain shouldn't get lost. They should know how to navigate to anywhere in the ocean. But lost was what Will was. He had no idea where Shipwreck Cove was. He needed Jack and the Compass. Unfortunately, it seemed he would need the Compass to find Jack as well. He was effectively missing on the ship. Worry was starting to creep in on Will as he searched the whole ship and could still not find he missing lover.

For the third time, Will looked in the holds, particularly around the crates of rum. Just as he was about to give up and return to the helm, he heard a quiet clink, like a rum bottle being put down. He ducked low under a hanging net and found Jack deep back in his niche, looking utterly depressed and mildly tired.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Will sat down next to him. "What're you doing down here Jack? I've been looking for you," he said, softly scolding. Jack looked at him blearily, not giving a response. "Jack what's the matter?"

"Nothin' whelp. I'm fine," Jack said quietly. Stifling a growl Will let it go. The more he tried to force the matter, the more likely it was Jack would ignore him, withdrawing into himself and insisting everything was alright. When it was so obviously not.

"Could I persuade you to come on deck then? We need a heading to Shipwreck Cove," Will asked, deciding changing the subject was the best course of action. Jack glanced at him. "I suppose, since it's you askin' me so nicely, I could be persuaded," he climbed to his feet and offered his hand to Will. Will grasped his hand, and Jack pulled him to his feet far too fast, and sending him flying into Jack's open arms.

"And you tell me I'm insatiable William," Jack chuckled, his cheek resting on top of Will's head.

"You did that on purpose Sparrow," Will squirmed out of Jack's grip.

"Doesn't sound like somethin' I'd do," Jack feigned looking thoughtful. "Doesn't it?" Will asked in an 'oh really?' voice. "Nah. I'm a fine upstandin' citizen I am. Wouldn't dare do anything that might impugn your honor like that," Jack smirked. "Jack Sparrow, the day you're a fine upstanding citizen is the day I marry Jack the monkey," Will answered, glad the un-merciless teasing had lightened Jack's mood.

Jack threw his arm around Will's shoulders. "Better get fitted for yer weddin' dress the whelp."

"Why would I wear the dress, why not the bloody monkey?" Will said indignantly, "I've been told that corsets are unbelievably painful. Not too mention dangerous. Not to mention were I too wed an undead monkey, I'd lose all credibility as captain." "Ah well can't have that can we? Now, on deck with you," Jack shoved Will towards deck. Will went too slow for his liking, and thus received a smack on the ass. He yelped, "That hurt!" "Maybe you should've moved faster William, then I wouldn't have had to smack your ass, of which I am rather fond."

* * *

It took literally all Jack's will power to focus on wanting to go to Shipwreck Cove so they could get a heading with the Compass. He couldn't get the needle to stop though. For one, as was common knowledge, his mind was often on rum or Will. For another, though he didn't show it, he was still worried about his lack of immortality. Thirdly, he really didn't want to go. He didn't get on well with the other Pirate Lords. They did not like him. Something about his being clever, crafty, able to weasel out of anything, and owing them all money made him their enemy that they grudgingly put up with.

"Which way Jack?" Will peered over Jack's shoulder, his chin resting on him. The needle was still spinning erratically. Jack jumped the tiniest bit.

"Give me a minute lad. And give a man some space," Jack shooed Will off and closed the Compass, and his eyes. He thought only of wanting to go to Shipwreck Cove and the Brethren Court. When he opened his eyes and the Compass, the needle had stopped and was pointing in a general northwest direction. "That way Will," Jack pointed in the same direction. "Thank you Jack," Will said quietly, watching Jack make his way off. He couldn't pursue him though, he had to remain at the helm all day and most of the night. He wanted to go as far as possible before they had to cross over again.

Bootstrap noticed his son wasn't at dinner. Sighing, he brought a plate of food to the helm. Will was stifling a yawn as he walked up. "Lad, how many times I 'ave to tell yeh, yeh need sleep?" he handed the plate of food over. "You look like hell." Will scowled at him. "Sorry son, but you do. Been up here too long. You're all pale with dark circles under your eyes." The lantern light threw that into sharp relief. Bootstrap gently but firmly pried his son from the helm and sent him off to bed, promising to take the helm and also get some sleep.

Will heard Jack in his room before he saw him in the candlelight. He was snoring fit to wake the dead, one arm dangling off the bed. Sighing, he stripped, tossing his clothes on Jack's under the desk. Before he'd even got comfortable next to him, Jack seized him around the middle in his sleep, murmuring something along the lines of "My whelp." Will smiled, pulling a blanket up. Next thing he knew, Jack would be braiding trinkets in his curls.

* * *

_He couldn't catch Will. The more he tried, the farther Will drifted away, shrouded in mist. But he still went after him. Until Will disappeared and a mirror rose out of nowhere, and he saw himself aging rapidly, crumbling into dust. Drifting away in the breeze, leaving nothing but a bandana and some scraps of his clothes, and a few gold teeth.

* * *

_

Will sat up, peering down at Jack in the flickering light, nervously biting his bottom lip. If he hadn't known in absolute certainty that it was Jack he would have thought him someone else. Jack never looked frightened like that. He was twitching and whimpering in his sleep. "Jack. Jack wake up! It's-it's just a dream," Will shook Jack's shoulder. He sat bolt upright, eyes wild, chest heaving.

Jack was trembling, and covered in a cold sweat. Never in all his life, that he could recall, had he had a nightmare. Will rubbed circles on his back, trying to be comforting. "Jack what's the matter? Will you talk to me?"

"I'm alright whelp," Jack said softly. "You're not alright Jack. Something's bothering you, and I'm worried."

"Leave it alone William," Jack rolled onto his side, his back to Will. Will glared at him, and lay down back to back with him. Jack would let himself be comforted to a point, but was too proud, too stubborn, to let anyone, even Will actually help.

Wide brown eyes stared into the dark at the wall. Jack didn't want to admit he was worried and had actually been afraid of the nightmare. The dying, the Will disappearing. He vowed to never go to sleep again with a head full of annoying thoughts as opposed to a stomach full of food and rum.

* * *

Morning found them both still in foul moods. Will had already checked with Jack about their heading, his tone brisk and clipped. But he couldn't help but watch Jack from the helm with equal parts worry and annoyance. Jack stalked and paced the deck with the air and manner of a nervous cat. He was easily ignored by the crew, but not the captain.

By the time Will let the crew go and have something to eat, Jack had stopped his pacing and stood at the rail, gripping it tightly. Will slipped his arm around Jack's and leaned against him.

"'Ello love," Jack said quietly.

"What's the matter?" Will asked.

"Right to the point aren't you?" Jack chuckled lightly.

"Jack, don't. I'm worried. You're so tense, you're about to snap, and I int-"

"I'm not immortal whelp," Jack cut him off. "I know. That's why we're after the map for the Fountain of Youth," Will said, puzzled.

"Are you so certain? Barbossa-"

"Barbossa? Jack you listened to him? I have no intention of letting anyone else get the map. I promise. And bloody hell Sparrow, when did you become so prone to despair?" Will grinned at Jack.

Jack returned the grin. "Maybe I thought about it too much. I was worried, I don't want to die," he said solemnly. "I told you, I don't intend on letting that happen. I take it that's what your nightmare was about?" Jack nodded, not elaborating. However, he leaned toward Will, "And I didn't want you to lose someone again."

Will gulped, eyes wide and throat suddenly dry. "Why Jack, that was almost romantic," he let out a weak laugh.

"You say that like I'm incapable of such. I can be romantic when I want," Jack said haughtily. Will gave him a patent Jack Sparrow smirk.

"Prove it."


	16. Chapter 16

_I own nothing. Sadly._

Will was beginning to regret telling Jack to prove he was romantic. He found himself lifted around the middle under Jack's arm, his arms hanging in front of him, his boots scraping along the deck.

He felt like a strumpet, albeit a very manly strumpet. Honest. He was just glad none of his crew saw him like that, he'd never live it down. He opened his mouth to tell Jack off, when Jack's hand sneakily made its way toward the top of his breeches. All his indignation fizzled away as he slumped boneless in Jack's hold.

Jack could be a read like a book, and Will had spent quite a lot of time studying said book. Will felt suddenly very fond of Jack as he was dragged into their cabin and tossed on the bed. That was enough to jolt Will back to his senses. However, he had no objections to Jack pinning him down and capturing his lips with his own.

The thick sound of cloth ripping opened Will's eyes. Bits of his shirt still clung to him, the rest fluttering softly to the floor. Jack had taken a small knife and shredded his shirt, and was slowly unlacing his breeches. Will started to slide the thin material down his hips, only to have his hands slapped away.

"Ja-ack! Please!" his voice held a slight whine.

"You told me to show you I can be romantic. I'm doin' that. So sit an' enjoy whelp," Jack swiftly removed Will's breeches and boots.

Will had no idea why the wenches at port were always slapping Jack. Jack had talent. Through half lidded eyes, he looked down at Jack, one hand tangled in the dreads and trinkets of his hair, fighting the urge to thrust down Jack's throat. Not that he could anyway, with the vice grip on his hips, forcing him against the bed frame.

Jack rolled his eyes up to look at Will, his gaze tracing over the scar where his heart had been, every bite mark and bruise. All his, every bit of him was his.

Only when his back scraped along the rough wood of the wall did Will realize he'd once again been lifted by Jack. He was lowered over Jack, slowly, hissing slightly at the first pain. He wrapped his hips 'round Jack's waist and his arms around his neck.

"Still…say…I can't be…romantic," Jack panted, his forehead pressed against Will's. Will was incapable of responding other than a drawn out breathy moan as his back hit the wall over and over. One more thrust and Will arched forward from the wall into Jack. Jack toppled backwards, fingers curled in Will's hair, as they fell to the floor.

Blood. Will tasted blood. He pushed himself off Jack, and looked down. He'd bitten him in the shoulder. Jack's breathing sounded ragged in Will's ears. "That hurt," Jack groaned. Will murmured assent and crawled over and rested his head on Jack's chest. "You make a good pillow," he chuckled. "I proved it though. That I can be romantic if an' when I want," Jack answered sleepily.

Something was tugging at Will's memory, preventing him from relaxing. Something important, something he had to do. Something… that in a way, had to do with Jack.

"Oh!" he sat up, remembering.

"Wha'izzit?" Jack mumbled without opening his eyes.

"I've got to captain the ship to Shipwreck Cove!" Will pulled on his breeches and a new shirt, not paying attention. "You can stay here if you like Jack," he said, tugging on his boots.

Were it not so funny watching Will panic and struggle to get dressed, Jack might have felt slighted by him suddenly leaping up and dashing out. As it was, he propped himself up to watch Will trip and stumble and try to be a good captain and not look like he'd just gotten shagged. Unfortunately, he put his breeches on backward. But Jack wasn't going to tell him. It was too funny. Besides, he quite liked the look of the laces over Will's ass. Almost like a present.

Will almost ran straight into his father coming out of his quarters. "William! I was just coming to get you," Bootstrap stepped back.

"At least you were going to knock," Will sighed, imagining the look on his father's face walking in to him and Jack sprawled naked on the floor.

"Boosting Jack's spirits then? Thank god someone around here does, he was starting to get annoying."

On the way up to the helm, Bootstrap suddenly pulled Will back. "What is it?" Will asked. "Cap'n, your breeches are on backward." Will turned around, the laces of his breeches dangling behind him. "I'm not gonna ask. I don't wanna know," Bootstrap continued to the helm, leaving Will to duck back to his quarters to fix his pants.

"Back for more love?" Jack grinned at Will, slumped on the bed.

"No, my breeches are on backward," Will pulled off his boots and fixed his pants.

"Wonderin' when you were going to notice," Jack snickered.

"You knew?"

"Yea. I saw it when you were leaving. Thought it was kinda funny myself."

"You could have told me, before my father told me, and I made a fool of myself," Will growled.

"Where would the fun be in that?"

* * *

Captaining a ship could be hell at times. Eating his dinner in between jaw cracking yawns, Will made a plate for Jack, who was sleeping and trudged to hopefully have some space on the bed. Jack was just waking up when he pushed the door open, sitting up and blinking into the sudden light.

"Will? What're you doing here?"

"Bringing you dinner," Will answered sleepily. "Why?" "'Cause you were sleeping, an' I didn't want you to go hungry. We'll be at Shipwreck Cove in a day." Will sat on the desk, pulling off his boots.

"You look like you could use some rum whelp," Jack pulled Will onto the bed. Will leaned against him, exhaustion sweeping over him. Jack idly played with Will's curls, swigging back rum and passing the bottle over. "Maybe. Not too much," Will finished the bottle, twirling one of Jack's dreads around his finger. Jack leaned down to plant a kiss on Will when a knock sounded at the door. "Someone better be dying," Will growled.

The crisis was averted. In his sleep deprived state, Will had forgotten to set a watch on the ship. That was all that was needed. He thought he might have frightened the man slightly, but that couldn't be helped. He'd been interrupted in his quarters.

Jack snickered at him. "What?" he demanded. "You just scared the hell out of that poor man, just 'cause he interrupted. Must say, I'm flattered," Jack smirked.

"Well I'm tired."

"And I say, I quite fancy you bein' all stern an' captain like," Jack answered. "Oh really?" Will snatched the hat from Jack's head and sat on his lap.

"Yes really."

"How much do you fancy it Jack?"

"Wouldn't you like to know whelp?"

* * *

Some time later, neither Jack or Will knew how long exactly, they dozed in comfortable silence. They were both sore, possibly bruised, and exhausted. But completely happy, as only the just recently shagged can be.

Will was trying to prove to Jack he could still beat him in a sword fight, since he still practiced.

"I've also been thinkin' Jack," Will said.

"Oh really? Do tell," Jack mumbled.

He was curled on the bed, the pillow mounded under his head. "I took your advice from a while back." Jack sat up, looking at him, "How's that?" he couldn't see at that moment how that had come to pass. "You told me, the first time we met, I needed to get myself a girl. I got a pirate." Jack arched one of his dark brows, "Y' know William, you can be almost sickeningly sentimental at times."

Will agreed to that, since it was true. However, he still insisted he was a better swordsman.

"Why don't we settle this like men eh?" Jack finally grumbled.

"How do we do that?"

"A duel tomorrow at noon," Jack said.

"Agreed. And I have a question," Will poked Jack, who groaned in annoyance. "You said once I'd never sinned, or done anything bad or in the way of pirating. Would you say I have now?" "Have what whelp?" Jack growled, his head under the pillow.

"Sinned Jack. Have I now you think? Many times with you? Am I bad?"

Jack looked from under the pillow. Will was leaning against the headboard, looking positively wanton. The smooth expanse of tan flesh, otherwise known as Will, was all his to do with as he pleased. He shuddered pleasantly at the thought, and climbed up to kiss and nibble along Will's neck. "You're a pirate. Speaks for itself I'd say."

* * *

The next day, the day of the duel, dawned overcast, hazy and warm. According to Jack's compass, the breeze blowing was keeping them in the right direction. Though, the whole crew was on edge at the knowledge that the direction they were going was to the Brethren Court. The tension was broken by the clash of steel on steel.

"You can't win Jack," Will panted, dodging Jack's sword. "Why is that William?" Jack answered.

"You're cornered."

"I am not!"

"Jack, you have rigging to one side of you, and cannons to the other. You're cornered." Jack answered that by ducking down and rushing for the door to his and Will's quarters. Will smirked, Jack could be so predictable. He took a deep breath, and with careful aim, threw his sword at the door, effectively locking it. "Shoulda seen that coming," Jack sighed.

Jack swept off his hat and bowed low to Will, saluting him. "I concede to you William. You win. You may claim your prize, as it were, later p'raps?"

"Brilliant. How much later? Later as in ten minutes, or…later?" Jack opened his mouth to answer, but a shout rang out.

"Captain!" Up in the crow's nest, a man was pointing out to sea. A huge structure reared out of the gloom, hundreds upon thousands of candles flickering at them. It looked as though it had been added to haphazardly over the years. "Is that it Jack? The court?" Will asked, looking at Jack, who had visibly paled. Jack nodded, all traces of humor and lust gone. They slowly sailed up, finding a spot to drop anchor.

"Shall we go then William? Don't want to keep'em waiting," Jack said in a tone that said he would love to keep them waiting, and never show up. He tucked an extra pistol behind his back in the band of his breeches.

"Can I even go aboard?" Will asked. "William. Use your eyes. It's not technically on land. You'll be fine. And even if you can't, I'll ruddy carry you there. I don't want to go by me self," Jack answered. "You think I'll be alright?" Will asked his father. "I reckon so, and if you're not, you'll know. It'll hurt like hell," Bootstrap said agreeably. "Must yeh worry 'bout everything? You're takin' all the fun outta life," Jack snapped. "That's big talk for a pirate that was worried about a slight case of mortality," Will retorted. "Slight case of mortality!" Sighing, Bootstrap shoved them into the long boat.

Moments later found them in the parlor type room of the Pirate Lords. Will kept glancing around nervously. He didn't like everyone looking at him. Barbossa was presiding over it all. "Now that our fellow lord has made his appearance," he glared at Jack. "I called ye all here to deliver the sad news that our king has passed on. Shall we have a moment of silence?" he asked over the babble of talk. Silence fell until Barbossa judged it enough. "Now I've something to offer as recompense for your losses," he placed the charts on the table.

"What is that?" Gentleman Jocard asked. "Charts to find things of a valuable nature, things like the Fountain of Youth," Barbossa said easily. "Who gets it?" demanded Captain Villenueva.

"Which of ye thinks ye lost the most men?"

Barbossa's simple question caused a riot in the parlor. A few more men were lost, and shots fired into the air. Capitaine Chevelle, the penniless Frenchman asserted that he had lost the most men, and therefore the charts were his. He had actually picked them up before Jack broke away from Will to stand in front of the Frenchman.

"Those actually be my charts mate. That slimy thievin' excuse for a human, also known as Barbossa stole them from me. So I'll be takin'em savvy?" Jack held out his hand.

Chevelle laughed in his face. "I think not Sparrow. I lost ze most men. Who did you lose?"

"My whole bleedin' crew!" Jack exclaimed.

"Zat was only a month ago. Ze are my charts now." They are not! They're mine!" Jack grabbed for the charts.

Will watched the whole exchange nervously. He saw one of Chevelle's hands disappear.

"Jack don't!" Will yelled, lunging around Barbossa to get between them. But it was as though the world had slowed down. He had to watch in horror as Chevelle pulled out his beautifully crafted pistol, skillfully cock it and aim it, and fire.

Point blank at Jack's chest.

_A/N: dun dun dun! And also, gasp. Sorry, cliffie. Couldn't resist mates. I'll update soon enough I hope_.


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: well, how'd you like that cliffhanger? Pretty good eh? I'm proud myself. Now, let's get on with it shall we? To the plot, which is solely mine. Nothing else_.

Time still appeared to be running oddly for Will. He couldn't seem to get to Jack, as he arched back, almost gracefully, a look of shock on his face. Melodramatically, to Will, he thudded to the floor.

And didn't move.

Cruel laughter sounded harshly in Will's ears. Chevelle was holstering his pistol, smirking like the bastard he was. "What's ze matter pet? Did I kill your master?"

Snarling, venomous fury racing through him, Will punched Chevelle in the face with all the strength he could muster. Which was quite a lot. Being a blacksmith for so many years had built up his muscles.

The map had been left on the table. In the ensuing chaos of Chevelle being sent flying back, Will tucked it into his shirt and knelt by Jack. He felt at his neck, trying to ignore the stillness. Nothing, nothing, and then a faint flutter at his fingertips.

Sagging and resisting the urge to sob with relief, Will dragged Jack out as gently as possible. He didn't know how Jack was alive, or how long he would stay as such, and he wanted to get them both the hell out of there.

"That was stupid boy, but clever," a voice as rough as a rusted sword said softly.

A man stepped out in front of Will, from an alley. His voice matched his appearance. He had wild dark hair, with many trinkets tangled in, under a broad feathered hat. He wore a red coat, and his lined, scarred face and dark baleful eyes said he'd learned quite a many lessons, not all of them kind.

"No offense meant, but I'm something of a hurry," Will lifted Jack up, draping his arms over his shoulders. "Who are you?"

"Captain Teague. Keeper of the Pirate Code."

"He's also me father," came a pain filled moan from Will's right.

Now that Will looked, he could see many similarities between Captains Teague and Sparrow. Good to know that, if they didn't find the Fountain, at least Jack would age gracefully as it were. And then it dawned on him that Jack was conscious.

And looking at his father through pain filled and not entirely friendly eyes.

"What're you doing here?" Jack asked, trying not to show how much he had to hold onto Will for support.

"Come to see if your whelp there had got you out a'right. An' if you were a'right o'course," Teague said, in a tone that said that Jack should hold his tongue, even if he was shot.

"I was just shot point bleedin' blank by some prissy French bastard. I'm very much not alright," Jack growled, and staggered, clinging to Will.

"Easy boy, you'll strain yourself. Lucky though, eh, survivin' that?"

"How did you anyway?" Will asked.

Jack tugged at his shirt, looking down curiously. "It's a bloody miracle," he muttered.

He held up the key around his neck, which he hadn't removed since Will had given it to him. There, stuck between the long teeth of the key was the bullet. Jack and Will looked at each other, wide eyed.

"Well, like I said, you're a lucky one Jacky. I'll be off, an' see what's left o' the courts. An' see if I can give you time to get outta here," Teague started to saunter off, but paused, looking back. "Jacky?" "What?" Jack asked. "Watch out for that one," Teague nodded toward Will. "Strikes me as the noble to a fault type, an' might do somethin' stupid."

With that, he was gone, leaving Will to drag Jack along. Jack did not make things easier by snickering, and muttering to Will that his father had read him like a book.

"C'mon Jack, I can't haul your arse up to the Dutchman without help," Will rubbed circles on Jack's back, trying to make the pain go away. By the time they reached the long boat, only a slight flinching around Jack's eyes showed he was in pain. That and how he hung onto Will.

Though that could've been just because he loved being close to him.

* * *

"What happened?" Bootstrap asked, helping Will and Jack aboard.

"Got shot in the chest by some bloody Frenchman," Jack grumbled.

"Then how-"

"Lookit," Jack pulled down his shirt to reveal the bullet in the key.

"Saved his life again son," Bootstrap said, amazed.

"Yea, but we lost the bleedin' charts," Jack was in an understandably foul mood.

"Oh did we?" Will smirked.

From his shirt, looking decidedly smug, Will pulled the charts, presenting them to Jack.

"William! How did you get those?" Jack was astounded.

"Well, I punched Chevelle in the face after he shot you, grabbed the charts, and got us out of there. Simple really," Will shrugged. "Brilliant. I'd stand and applaud you, or snog you into oblivion, but it hurts to do such," Jack leaned against the mast.

"Mr. Turner?" Will looked to his father. "Aye?"

"Can you take over the helm? I'd like to inspect Sparrow's wounds," Will said in his best Captain voice, trying not to sound like an over excited little kid. Bootstrap grinned secretively, "Aye Cap'n. I'll be sure to knock first if anything comes up." "Thank you. Now, come along Jack," Will pulled Jack along after him to their quarters.

Once the key was placed on the desk, Will got a good look at the bruises on Jack's chest. The key had dug into his chest, so he had a bloody outline of it over his heart, surrounding the bruises.

"This might hurt," he said, dabbing at the blood with a wet cloth.

"No worries love. Can't hurt any worse," Jack hissed in pain. He had an almost white-knuckle grip on the bed, but insisted it didn't hurt.

Jack looked at how Will wasn't looking at him. He was keeping his eyes determinedly on his task. "Whelp," he cupped Will's chin, lifting his face to meet his gaze. Will's big brown eyes were shiny, very nearly swimming with un-captain-ly tears. "Will? What's wrong?"

With a mumble, Will dropped the cloth and climbed up to lean against Jack. "I thought you'd died," he muttered. You were lying there… and I couldn't feel your pulse, and you weren't moving…and," Will nuzzled his head against Jack's arm. He wasn't given to crying, but he couldn't erase the image of Jack lying motionless on the floor.

"Will, don't cry. Please? I can't abide tears. Now, come here," carefully, Jack pulled Will onto his lap, resting his face on Will's head. "It's gonna take more than some haughty Frenchman in a powdered wig to take down Captain Jack, savvy?" Will grinned weakly, "Usually it takes a Kraken or some cannibals."

"Now, I might be enjoyin' the attention whelp, but shouldn't you see if your key works?" "I think you're right," Will climbed off Jack and fetched the Chest. "You'll need the key," Jack held the key out to Will. "Right. Sorry," Will shook his head. He'd been distracted staring at the chest. He never got used to the idea it was his heart in there.

The key slid easily into the lock, and turned. There lay Will's heart in the corner, beating away as always.

"Do I get to repay you for saving my life once more? And are you going to claim your prize?" Jack asked, trailing his hand up Will's back while Will put the chest away.

"No," Will answered.

"No?"

"That's what I said. No," Will stood up from under the organ.

"Why the bloody hell not?" Jack demanded. "Jack. You got shot. I'm still vaguely reeling from the fact you survived. And, no matter what you say, you're hurting. I can tell. So you will just lie down and relax," Will said forcibly.

Will next found himself trapped in Jack's arms, unable to speak for Jack's lips on his own. The minute he'd tried to get Jack to lay down, Jack had pounced. Apparently, Jack wasn't going to go quietly.

Will should have seen it coming.

Around the time that Jack's hand snaked up the back of his shirt, and he nipped at Will's bottom lip, did Will's mind kick back into gear.

Will had definitely told Jack no, and was now sitting on Jack's lap. He squirmed off, sitting on the bed. Jack let out a groan at the loss. "That won't work Sparrow," he said, trying to sound firm despite the obvious breathlessness of his voice. "Oh really?" Jack said in arrogant disbelief. "Really." "Seemed to be workin' ta me."

It cannot be said that Jack didn't try to get Will to take away the ban on shagging. He even tried the kicked puppy look that he had before.

"Jack, seeing as I'm not just some strumpet anymore, I'm immune to that look, so don't even try," Will shut his eyes and turned over, giving Jack a view of his back. Jack slumped down, looking sadly at Will.

"Are you mad at me fer some reason whelp?" Jack mumbled after awhile. Will grinned ever so slightly, and startled Jack by turning over so their foreheads were lightly touching.

"No Jack, I'm not mad. I'm finding it increasingly difficult to stay mad at you." Jack grinned, flashing gold teeth. "I just don't want you to tear through the scabs on your chest and bleed to death. But look at it this way, anticipation always makes it better," Will gave him a seductive smile.

Jack softened slightly. His whelp was just trying to be helpful. "Alright. For once, I'll stop. But for the record, I'm going to see Chevelle dead for this," he growled. "Not if I get him first," Will muttered sleepily.

"This is almost gong to be far too easy whelp. No sea monsters, no cannibals, no immortal tentacle faced villains what want my soul, nor any cheating East India officials," Jack said breezily. "What a shame for you, only a minor threat on your life, it won't be any fun at all," Will answered sarcastically.

"Shut it William." Jack rolled stiffly onto his back, wincing. "I told you so," Will snickered. "I thought I said shut it," Jack warned. "You're just sullen because you're too hurt for any sort of sex." "Damn right."

An almost frantic banging on the door woke Will some hours later. He could hear his father's muffled voice through the thick wood of the door. "Will! Cap'n wake up! Trouble cap'n!" "Be right up Bill," Will called.

Jack woke as he was getting himself dressed. "What's goin' on?" he asked groggily, pushing his hair from his face. "Some manner of trouble. Get dressed and meet me on deck. Now please," Will raced up on deck.

He was looking out to sea with a spyglass by the time Jack arrived. Will handed over the glass, letting Jack have a look. It was dark, but he could still see the line of dark shapes heading towards them. Jack strained to see. "Damn! The bloody Frenchman is leading them," he slammed the spyglass closed.

Will had gone very still next to Jack. His gaze and pose reminded Jack of a dog gone still with its hackles raised. A low growl even sounded in his whelp's throat. Would have been amusing were they not in danger.

Again.

The Brethren Court was after them, and gaining fast.


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: I would just like to say, I think I'm making excellent time on this. Yea, I see only a few more chapters after this. But, among my many other ideas, I got a sequel planned. So don't fret, and scroll down please and read_

"Jack, get drunk. Now."

"Why?"

Will gave him a withering look, "We're crossing over to lose them. Over there matches up with over here, so I'll need to borrow your compass once more."

"Oh. Right. 'Course," Jack handed the nautical tool over, still feeling a bit slow, and left to find rum.

Will saw too it the Dutchman was ready to cross over, and ducked into his quarters to make sure Jack was secure. He found him curled on his side, clutching an as of yet unopened rum bottle. It had helped that Jack was still mostly asleep, so drinking himself into a stupor was no challenge.

He smiled fondly at the sight before dashing back on deck and seeing them crossed over.

* * *

It had gone off without a hitch. They were out of firing range of the Brethren Court. They were out of anyone's firing range actually. Will let out a sigh and leaned against the helm. They were safe, and couldn't lead the Court to the Fountain. He had time actually to collect the souls, now he looked at all the little boats floating about.

As sometime happened, there were souls he sometimes recognized. Pirates were not known for living peacefully together. Jack himself was quite lucky to still be around, considering how many of them he had pissed off.

Will was not stupid, contrary to what Jack sometimes insinuated.

However, he didn't think it possible the Compass wouldn't work.

But it didn't. Damn.

He couldn't even will it to work by thinking of Jack. He called to his father and gave him the news. "Bit o' bad luck that is. But we'll get through it, we always do," Bill said positively. Will nodded a tad glumly, and trotted downstairs to wake Jack.

"Jack. Jack wake up. Wake up Sparrow!" Will shook Jack's shoulder. Jack slowly blinked at him, one fist rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "Whelp? That didn't seem like a long time. We at the Fountain already?" Jack sat up slowly, stifling a yawn.

"Your compass doesn't work Jack, in the Locker. We needed to come up and get our bearings. We're farther ahead of the Courts. And I've been thinking. Again," Will plopped onto the bed next to Jack.

"What about?"

"I don't know if I can come onto the island of the Fountain with you. I can't go on land. And I may need to, because what if something goes wrong?" "I could carry you," Jack suggested.

"Oh really?" Will raised an eyebrow, "And what if you need to put me down to drink or whatever from the Fountain?"

Jack's grin faded into a puzzled look. "Oh. Hadn't thought about that."

"Clearly."

"No need for snide ness William," Jack snapped, bristling at Will's tone.

"Sorry," Will mumbled. "I'm…I'm going to get something to eat." He quickly pushed himself off the bed and down to the mess hall.

* * *

"Buckets son."

"Pardon?" Will looked up from his food at his father.

"You were muttering about how to walk on land. Jones used buckets of water," Bill sat down next to his son, ""Why not have Jack carry yeh, and set yeh in a bucket of water once you reach the Fountain?"

"If I wanted him to carry me. It's not fitting of a captain," Will said semi indignantly.

"Sometimes son, captains gotta do things they don't want. This may be one of those times. 'Sides, I bet Jack would be more than willing," Bill grinned at his son.

"He already offered to carry me. But I didn't think it would work, because I didn't remember the buckets," Will answered grudgingly. "Well, take a few o' the crew along. We're good in a fight, seein' as we can't be killed easily. I'm more'n willin' to come," Bill offered. "Fair enough," Will sighed. He knew when he was beat.

Bill could see his son was still not convinced this convoluted and risky plan was gong to work. "Will, go to Jack."

"What?"

"Go see Jack. He almost died, and it's clear you both need reassurance that everything is going to be alright."

"But Bill, he's hurt," Will protested. Bill sighed. For a pirate captain, his son could be annoyingly anxious about everything. "William. If I know Sparrow, and I do, he's not going to let that stand in his way. You shouldn't either. As yer father, I don't like seein' yeh distressed. Go an' enjoy the time 'fore we reach the Fountain with your Sparrow."

"Well…when you put it that way…I'll be indisposed for a few hours. Knock if anything needs my immediate attention," Will left his plate on the table and all but sprinted to his quarters.

Jack was lying on the bed, staring angrily at the ceiling, tossing a cork up into the air. He didn't look over until Will locked the door. "William," he greeted him stiffly.

"Jack," Will crouched down and pulled off his boots.

"Come to just sit and talk again whelp?" Jack's tone indicated how wounded Will's snapping at him earlier had left him.

"No. I didn't come to talk," Will tossed his shirt aside.

"Then why're you here? Thought you were hungry," Jack asked. "I _am _hungry," Will smirked. "But aren't you-" Jack's words were cut off by Will climbing onto the bed to straddle his hips and pulling him up into a fierce kiss.

Jack surprised Will by wrenching himself from his grasp, panting. "Thought you said I was too hurt?"

"Are you complaining?" Will pushed Jack's shirt up.

"No, but-"

"Jack, enough. I've been basically ordered to enjoy my time alone with you while I can. You wouldn't want me to go against orders would you?" "Hell no," Jack pulled Will down towards him. He didn't want Will to be a bad captain. However, he wasn't exactly comfortable with Will where he was.

Will found himself pushed to the side and rolled onto his stomach. Jack leaned over him, his groin pushed hard against Will's ass, his arms on either side of him. However, they both still had their breeches on.

That was unacceptable.

Growling and cursing, Jack held himself on one arm and divested himself and Will of the offending articles of clothing. Will moaned at the feel of skin on skin. How could he have ever thought of going without this? Injuries and Pirate Lords be damned. He was never going so long without Jack again.

"Scream for me whelp," Jack whispered hotly into Will's ear. "Hm?" Will couldn't focus. Jack chuckled deviously, and grabbed a handful of Will's curls, his fingers tangled in them. "I said: Scream for me," he lifted Will's hips and thrust his way in Will's tight entrance.

And scream Will did, much to his embarrassment.

All he had to say was, thank god for the fact the crew was down eating.

Well, he would have said that were he not occupied with crying out in a mix of pleasure and pain as Jack ground into him.

Nothing hurt anymore as Jack brushed over the bunch of nerves that made little white lights burst before Will's eyes and made his muscles turn to butter. He arched up against Jack, silently urging him to go on. His throat was raw, and in no shape for talking.

Jack grinned and released his hold on Will's hair. He braced himself against the mattress, thrusting into Will as hard and as fast as he could. Which, it has to be said, is rather hard and fast. Will buried his head under a pillow, muffling his yelps, moans, and cries for more.

Will found himself in a state of absolute bliss as Jack trailed a hand down his back, around his hip to take a firm grip on his dick. And then the state of bliss crumbled as Jack stopped moving. He held himself over Will, only the tiniest trembling in his arms and legs giving away that it was an effort.

"Jack?! Jack what are you doing?" Will's voice was hoarse and strangled. "Relishin' the moment," Jack answered. Will growled, "Hang the moment Jack and finish it!" He pushed against Jack. "Fair enough pet," Jack grunted. He thrust into Will, forcing him into the bed, eliciting delicious little keening moans from him. He drew out once more, and angled his hips to push in, sending both himself and Will spiraling over the edge into a blissful, pleasurable abyss.

There was a twinge in Jack's chest as he held himself over Will, arms trembling, lightheaded in the afterglow. His scars didn't quite hurt now, but they would possibly be after.

The possibility became a definite as his arms gave out and he fell onto Will, who in turn was driven into the bed. Will groaned and shoved Jack off of him. Jack scowled at Will, his hair hanging in his face. Will returned the glare before his eyes widened. Then, in a ridiculously broken due to his screaming voice, he exclaimed, "Jack! You're bleeding!" Jack snorted at his voice and looked down. Blood trickled down his chest sluggishly.

Will immediately dashed to the washroom to get a wet cloth. "You can't just fall asleep in the pre sex after glow like a normal person can you whelp? No you have to dash about playing nursemaid to me," Jack said grumpily. He was ignored, and as such, he found himself drifting off to sleep leaning against the wall.

Wringing out the wet cloth, Will returned to the bed. Jack had fallen asleep quickly. He sighed in annoyance, then figured this would at least make it easier to wipe away the blood. He knelt in front of Jack and gently cleaned off the already drying blood.

Jack jumped awake the instant the cloth touched his chest. In his sleep and sex muddled mind, the cold wet cloth had felt like one of Jones's tentacles. That had to be the worst way to wake up in his mind, naked in a bed with the feel of Jones's tentacles on you. Though he supposed some might find it attractive. Look at Calypso.

'Jones is long dead. Now you got William,' he reminded himself. His heart rate went down slowly as he watched Will, who was engrossed in his task. He crossed his arms behind his head, "Not every day I get a handsome lad taking care o' me," he sighed contentedly.

Will rolled his eyes. Jack could sweet talk with the best of them, he just found it ridiculous most of the time. "You've stopped bleeding Jack. For now anyway," he scrambled down and tossed the cloth in the washroom. "Always good to know I won't be bleedin' to death," Jack tugged Will onto the bed, holding him tight.

Will was more relaxed now, everything going right in his world at the moment. Jack, going philosophical, came up with an excellent reason for such.

"Will?"

"Huh?"

"I've come up with an excellent idea."

"What's that?"

"Shaggin' does a body good," Jack explained. At Will's confused look, he hastened to elaborate. "See, earlier, you were wound tight as like to snap. You had a talk with your father, who I plan on thanking, and returned a delightfully changed man. Bit o' the rough an' tumble with me an' you're content as a cat with cream," Jack waved his hand airily to illustrate his point.

"I think I see your point Jack. However, a simple neck rub would have sufficed. Since _someone_ bent my head at an awkward painful angle. By my hair," Will poked Jack. "It's not my fault I enjoy your hair. It's so curly," Jack lifted a lock of Will's hair. "Naturally, it's all my fault. I was cursed with theses curls to simply flaunt them in front of you. I'm terribly sorry." Jack clapped a hand over Will's mouth to shut him up.

"Will, we're talking about our hair."

"You brought it up Jack."

"But you continued with it. I'm going to sleep now. You can talk about your hair to yourself," Jack rolled over, and shortly thereafter Will heard snores coming from him.

Hours later, sunlight pierced through Will's happy dreams rudely wake him. Growling and cursing under his breath, he rolled over away from the sun. the sun seemed to have other plans, and lit up Jack's face. Will found himself staring.

The early morning sun always lit up Jack's face so he appeared to be carved of gold. Whatever deity out there had created Jack had decided he couldn't be anything other than handsome, from his perpetually kohl lined eyes to his dreadlocks to his lean long legs. Will shook himself from his daydream to find Jack had woken up and was watching him. "Mornin' whelp. Seein' anything what catches your eye?" "Yea. You."

The Brethren Court was still behind them a week and a half later, but as every other day they crossed over, the Dutchman and her crew kept them at bay.

Although that kept Jack in an almost constant state of inebriation, which led to him asleep most of the time, which left Will all on his lonesome.

And as was found out, a worried, horny, annoyed Will does not make for pleasant travel.

Two weeks slipped by, and on the far off horizon, a speck of land could be seen.

"Your immortality's near Jack," Will murmured, coming up behind Jack, who was looking out to sea. "I know whelp, I can almost taste it," Jack smirked. "I've come up with a plan. One that will help us elude the Courts, obtain your immortality, and not reveal its location to the Courts."

"Really? Come up with something that clever all on your own?" Jack turned and leaned against the rail. "Yes. I did as a matter of fact. Now will you shut up and listen? As we can see, land is right there. And the other side, for the most part, matches up with over here. What I suggest we do is go over to the other side, plot where land is there, come up on the other side of the island and drop anchor, losing the Brethren."

"You really are a clever one aren't you William? That's brilliant," Jack said sincerely. "You'll need more rum though won't you?" Will sighed. "What's the matter whelp?" "You're really difficult to wake, for anything when you're passed out drunk."

So that was why Will had seemed so moody lately. He'd missed him. Jack was touched. "No worries Will. It should be the last time I have to. Alright?" Jack said, trying to be reassuring. "Alright Jack. Go get drunk, and I'll wake you soon enough." But he still wasn't entirely happy.

Before Will could protest, Jack pulled him into a tight embrace and locked their lips together. "Now stop worrying and do your job whelp." With that Jack swaggered off, leaving a mildly dazed Will to execute his plan.


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: Alight, well, this is one of the last chapters. I must say, I'm rather proud of it, seeing as it's my first fic and I've got oodles more lined up in my head, including, as I may have mentioned, a sequel to this one. So, enjoy these last few chapters, and as usual, I own nothing but the plot I made up._

Barbossa slammed his spyglass shut. The Dutchman had just disappeared, and there wasn't a speck of land in sight. And the boy, Jack's precious whelp had stolen the charts, and had the Compass to guide them.

Oh he would so enjoy killing them, most likely the boy first, and make Jack watch. Then Jack. Or he could bind Jack to an island and leave the body of his lover within his sight but out of his grasp, torturing him, with none of his bloody sea turtles the save him. That idea had possibilities.

* * *

Back on the Dutchman, at the helm, Will eased the ship around and back to the land of the living. The island where, according to the map and compass, the Fountain was, loomed in front of them. Only after he ordered the anchor dropped did he take the chance to savor his victory, such as it was. His plan had worked!

"Jack! Get up you lump, we're here. Immortality awaits!" Will lifted Jack to his feet, nearly staggering them both. Jack looked around, eyes unfocused, his sleep ridden mind not quite grasping the concept. "Wha' worked?"

Will sighed, not bothering to explain. He tossed Jack his effects and hat. "My plan Jack," he straightened up. "The Fountain of Youth is practically outside our door. Now come on!"

Their boots filled with salt water as the pair sloshed up to the shore, stumbling in the sand. Will climbed onto Jack's back, much against his will, while his father and two others filled a bucket with water.

"Where is it? Do we even know what it looks like? Which way Jack?"

"William! Give a man a second to get his bearin's. Honestly," Jack pulled out his compass, trying to focus more on the prospect of immortality, and less on the fact Will was breathing hotly into his ear, his breath coming in excited little gasps.

The compass led them deep into the humid wetland jungle of the island. More than once, Jack had to pull out his sword and slash through thick vines and over hanging fronds from trees. He pulled out the compass, circling around, trying to find the ruddy Fountain.

"Jack."

"Not now whelp."

"Jack. It's important."

"Whelp, I said not now!"

"Jack! Dammit, I said it's important!"

"What is it William?"

"There is."

* * *

It wasn't so much a fountain as a perfectly circular pool with a spring bubbling in the center. There was a slight depression in the ground around it, where the few that had stumbled across it had knelt to drink. Will wondered if they had known what they were drinking from, or if they had simply been thirsty. They had certainly figured it out after awhile.

Bootstrap and the other men joined them, setting the bucket down for Will, who slid off Jack's back into the water. Jack handed over his hat to Will, and knelt down in front of the Fountain.

"Well?" Will prompted. They didn't have time to wait if the Brethren were on their way.

"Just a second Will. I'm not sure how this is s'posed to work. I guess I drink," Jack leaned over, cupping his hand and bringing up a handful of water to his lips.

The water was shockingly ice cold. As it slid down Jack's throat, a shudder ran through him, and he plunged into the Fountain, which was deeper than it looked.

"Jack!" Will fought the urge to climb out of the bucket. His father reached in and pulled a gasping, sopping wet Jack from the water, dragging him over to Will.

Will reached out to Jack, and his hand was shocked, a little jolt of energy. Jack felt different, an energy humming around him, in the air. It felt like…like a giant gong had been struck right by them, and the vibrations were still echoing in the air. Jack looked up at Will, shaking his hair from his face. "I think…you might be immortal now," Will said uncertainly.

"Feels like, though I'm not in a hurry to test it out," Jack muttered.

As he carried Will back, Jack reflected on their situation.

"Will?"

"What?"

"I've a thought. And it's a painful one."

"What is it, I dare ask?"

"We burn the charts so the Brethren can't get'em. I'd rather not seem them in the hands of them."

Will sighed, "I think you're right. We'll burn them on the other side, so the smoke doesn't attract the Courts."

* * *

A flurry of activity over took the crew of the Dutchman as they prepared to cross over to the land of the dead. Which they did, without, really thinking.

"Forget something pet?"

"Jack! Oh. Well, I suppose this proves your immortality," Will said sheepishly, observing how they hadn't ensured that Jack be safely drunk. "Really?" Jack said sarcastically. "I hadn't noticed. So, I'm immortal, life is grand. Now let's burn the charts."

A thin trail of smoke drifted into the air, a little eddy of wind blowing the ashes away. The deck was littered with broken matches. Jack had broken most of them, nearly burned himself with the rest. He stood up, dusting off his hands. "That's settled then. What say we lure out the Courts an' teach'em a lesson?"

"Will I get to shoot Chevelle?"

"Only if I don't get to him first."

"I want him Jack. I have to pay him back for shooting you, for, really, no good reason. If I hadn't given you the key…" Will shuddered. Jack rolled his eyes, though secretly pleased with the attention.

* * *

As they neared the Courts, drawing them away from the island, Will called his crew together.

"We will, unfortunately, have to fight them. But what we lack in numbers, we make up for in our immortality. We will win this, and make them regret the day they even thought about coming after the Flying Dutchman!" Inspired, his crew stepped to, and readied the cannons.

* * *

Barbossa wiped the lens of the spyglass. No, he wasn't seeing things. The Flying Dutchman was there, and bearing down on them. Damn Jack for taking back the Black Pearl, and then losing it permanently. If he hadn't, he could have the Pearl, and then outrun the Dutchman. None of the ships of the Courts could even come close. But they could at least go down fighting, if that's what it came down to. "Ready the cannons!" he hollered to his crew, and signaled to the other ships that they should do the same.

The former first mate of the Pearl was confident they could do some damage. All he had to do really was threaten Jack's life, and his whelp would be in the palm of his hand. He would get the charts and be well on his way to beating Jack to the Fountain.

* * *

In between passing the spyglass back and forth, Will and Jack paced the deck of the Dutchman. They were getting nearer to the Courts, and hadn't precisely thought so far ahead. They weren't worried about dying, but the tension was killing them.

It was the Courts who fired first. Chevelle's ship to be exact. He did seem to have it in for Jack. they swarmed across the deck of the Dutchman, swords and pistols drawn. Will's crew burst forth, weapons also raised. Men from all courts dropped at their feet, dead. The deck was slick with blood, and many men died simply from falling into blades. Most decided to return to their ships, tails between their legs.

"Still got it, eh Will?" Jack called over his shoulder. He was sincerely enjoying the fight, it was what he lived for. Will looked over his shoulder to respond, and saw once more Chevelle raising his sword to strike Jack. His blood again ran cold, and he prayed it all hadn't been a fluke. The blade plunged into Jack's chest, and Jack cried out. Even immortal, being stabbed still hurt like a bitch.

Chevelle laughed out loud. He had finally rid the world of Jack Sparrow. Another laugh joined his, sounding only slightly tinged with pain. Jack was laughing with him. The entirety of the courts stopped, staring. Clearly, in his last moments, Jack had lost what was left of his marbles.

"Can't kill me mate," Jack pulled the sword out of his chest and drove it straight into the Frenchman's heart. If he had one. The man dropped to the deck, limp and very much dead.

* * *

Barbossa saw the whole scene from the helm of his ship. They'd found the Fountain. He stormed across to the Dutchman, stepping over Chevelle's body to get eye with Jack. "Where be the charts Sparrow?" he demanded.

"Burned'em up mate. Not an hour ago," Jack grinned maliciously.

"Don't lie to me Sparrow!"

"Or you'll do what? Kill me? Look at your feet Hector, and see how well that worked out for Chevelle."

Will could see how things were going badly down on deck. "It's true Barbossa. Come see the blackened spot for yourself," he called. Barbossa nudged the soot with his boot, scowling, fuming. It was true. He'd never get the Fountain. The Courts were already sailing away. Jack and Will had beat him. Again.

Tight lipped, without a word, Barbossa turned back to go to his ship. Unable to keep his mouth shut, Jack called out tauntingly to him, "Better luck next time mate. If you're not dead before then." Barbossa stopped. Quick as a flash, he cocked his pistol, fired at Jack, and returned to his ship.

* * *

Will caught Jack, cradling his head in his lap. The bullet had gone through cleanly, and already the wound was healing. The bullet was buried in the wood of the mast. "That bloody hurt…"Jack moaned.

"Thank god for immortality though, eh Jack?" Will looked upside down at his lover. "It couldn't take the pain away?" Jack asked.

"No. can you get up? I can, I'm just enjoying the attention," Jack flashed him a devilish grin. Will let him drop, his head thudding to the floor.

As Jack picked himself up, Will stood ranting. "You're incorrigible! Insatiable!"

"Intensely attractive?" Jack suggested.

Will looked at him, eyes narrowed. "Be that as it may…I…I…I really don't have anything to add. So what say you to me 'checking your wounds'?" Will asked suggestively.

"I'm for it."

They locked themselves in their quarters, and weren't heard from for hours.


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: well, here's the epilogue. It's short, and cheesy, and clichéd, and fluffy, but not too bad for my first whole story thing. Enjoy_

_Ten Years Later:_

"Come on Jack!"

"Will, the sun just rose. What's the rush?"

"What's the rush? I want to enjoy this day. I haven't been on land in ten years. Do you have the hammock?" Will raced up the sandy slope, leaving Jack to trudge through the water with everything.

"Yes I've got your bloody hammock. And the food. And the rum," Jack muttered. While he still loved Will, he did not appreciate being left to carry everything while Will bounded ahead like an over excitable pup.

By the time Jack reached the trees, Will had already stripped to his breeches, giving Jack a good view, and was building a bon fire. They'd let the crew of the Dutchman have a day off on Tortuga, which was neighbors with the uninhabited island they were on.

"I missed land," Will sighed happily, flopping back onto the sand.

"Get up William, and help me set up the hammock," Jack pulled his shirt off. It wasn't a hammock so much as an overly large sheet they strung up between two trees.

Once the hammock was up, and the rum and food within reach of said hammock, Will scrambled onto the sheet, getting comfortable. Jack slowly lay next to him, fighting to keep the hammock from tipping over and dumping them into the sand.

It was wonderfully quiet on their island, only the rhythmic waves, and the wind through the palm fronds. Will looked up at Jack, who was staring out to sea. The Fountain had undeniably worked. Jack still looked the same, same high cheek bones, perpetually kohl lined brown eyes, gold teeth, trinkets twined in his hair and the braids of his beard.

Will sighed contentedly, resting his head on Jack's chest. Jack looked down curiously.

"What's the matter Will?"

"Nothing Jack. Just…enjoying the view." Jack glanced at him, and saw he wasn't looking at the ocean, but at him. He rolled his eyes. Will could be unaccountably sentimental, with his brown curls and deep brown eyes.

"What were your plans today William?" Jack idly traced the scar on Will's chest.

"Oh, I had a few vague ideas," Will flashed a smirk to rival his lover's, pressing up against Jack's thigh.

"What d'you think?" He twirled the string around Jack's neck, from which hung the key to the chest and Will's heart, around his finger.

Jack shut his eyes, breathing deeply. "I think that's probably the best idea you ever had," he said enthusiastically.

Will chuckled at Jack's enthusiasm. "Why else did you think I got the extra large sheet?"

"Knew there was a reason I loved yeh whelp." Jack pulled himself onto Will, the hammock tipping dangerously. "I can't believe I'm suggesting it, but maybe we should consider not doing this in the hammock?"

Will made a feral sound low in his throat. "No. Now."

The hammock rocked as they rolled over each other, trying to remove breeches, not loose contact with each other, and not tip the hammock all at once. Jack braced himself above Will for a moment, his forehead resting against Will's.

"D'you know what's best, in my opinion?"

"What?" Will asked, puzzled as to why Jack was stalling.

"We've got eternity to do this."

A/N: yea, the ending, I personally didn't like there. But it was the best I could think of. It's sweet, which is good I suppose. And I said I had a sequel. I'm not sure when I'll start it though. I kinda want a break from Will and Jack. I know, who could ever want a break? But, I've got other things to work on. I should start them soon. Look for the sequel soon though, 'kay?


End file.
